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* * *

The sound of the gunboat’s engines could be heard in Kestrel some time before its navigation lights showed up to port. Steering a converging course, she soon closed the distance. A searchlight beam leapt from the darkness and a voice amplified by loud-hailer shouted, ‘What ship? Where from?’

Nunn picked up the hand megaphone. ‘Yacht Kestrel from Vrakoy. Bound Andenes.’

‘Stop engines. We are coming alongside.’

Nunn called down to Boland. ‘Stop engines, John.’

The gunboat edged closer, sailors hanging fenders over the side. When she was almost alongside an officer and two ratings leapt across. The naval vessel drew clear, the searchlight beam still trained on the ketch.

The officer climbed down into the cockpit. One seaman went forward, the other aft. The Norwegian sub-lieutenant spoke good English. ‘This is a formality. We have authority to search vessels in our territorial waters.’

‘For what?’

The sub-lieutenant shone a torch in his face. ‘Are you the owner, sir?’

‘No. The yacht is on charter from Halvorsen Brothers, Bodo. We are four British yachtsmen — in fact one is a woman — ’ he corrected himself. ‘We’re on holiday. Sailing through the islands. We put into Vrakoy for engine repairs. Stuck there for three days. Left soon after two this morning. We hope to make Andenes by sunrise.’

‘May I see your charter papers — and sailing clearance from Vrakoy?’

‘Certainly. What are you searching for?’

‘The usual. Drugs. Illicit liquor.’

You’re lying, young man, thought Nunn, but you’re doing it well. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘You won’t find anything here but you’re welcome to look. Come down to the saloon and I’ll show you the papers.’

The papers were in order and the search took place. A really thorough one, from stem to stern. Every cabin, locker and other stowage space was examined methodically.

The sub-lieutenant apologized for the inconvenience, thanked Nunn and his crew for their co-operation and signalled his ship alongside. The three Norwegians clambered aboard and the gunboat disappeared into the night.

‘Holy Saint Patrick,’ said Boland. ‘They were indeed thorough.’

‘Suits us.’ Nunn looked at his watch. ‘That fun and games occupied thirty-three minutes.’

* * *

Liang Hui shut the throttle, the skimmer lost way and came to a stop. There was nothing to be seen. Isolated and alone it climbed the long hills of the swells and slid into their valleys, lost in a limbo of fog and darkness.

A few minutes later they heard for the second time that night a threatening sound. It came swiftly towards them, the note subdued at first but rising, the compression of the sound waves transforming the distant rumble into a high-pitched screech, shattering the silence as it passed, the intensity diminishing as it drew away.

They had seen nothing. ‘Must be the same skimmer,’ said Liang Hui. ‘The one that nearly collided with us near the Ostnes Beacon.’

‘Again in a mad hurry,’ said Tanya. ‘Wonder what it’s up to.’

‘They’re probably asking the same about us.’

When the last note of the outboard had faded all was silent but for the suck and splash of the sea against the rubber hull, the tic-tic of dripping water as fog condensed on thwarts and clothing, and the distant growl of foghorns.

‘Those foghorns,’ said Tanya nervously. ‘Horrible sinister sound.’

‘Coasters and fishing vessels, I suppose.’

‘Will they worry us?’

‘Not unless they see us. Shouldn’t think it’s likely.’

‘I’m frightened,’ she said. ‘This is the worst part of all.’

‘Don’t worry. We’ve made the rendezvous without having to call for help. That would have complicated things.’

‘I suppose so.’ She crossed her arms over her breasts and shivered. ‘It’s cold and spooky, Li. D’you think it’s really worth it? All this?’

‘Of course it is. Think of the stakes.’

‘At the end of the day they may get nothing from him.’

‘They’ll get something. You know what interrogation’s like nowadays. Not the old “tell us the truth or else”. Much more subtle.’

‘It’s cruel. The resistance course taught me that.’

‘Depends what you mean by cruel. It’s not a physical thing is it? An assault on the mind, yes. It can be terrifying and humiliating. It’s a risk we always run.’

‘Poor boy,’ she sighed. ‘Why should he suffer?’

‘To keep the world safe. Sounds like a cliché but it’s true.’ After a pause he said, ‘I don’t know why you took it on if you feel like that.’

‘Oh, yes, you do. You talked me into it. And I’ve a grudge to settle. This is one way of doing it. And — let’s be honest — I go for kicks and danger’s the greatest kick of all. Even if I am frightened.’ She laughed in a timid uncertain way.

‘I haven’t time for philosophy. Must get on with the job.’ Using a shaded torch he un-zipped the cover of the orange life-raft, held the inflating lanyard in one hand and with the other threw the pack over the side. There was a steady hiss as the raft inflated and spread, growing larger by the second like the covered plant of a Bombay conjurer. The tubular walls filled and took shape and the canopy rose and became rigid. Eventually the raft loomed larger than the skimmer alongside it.

Liang Hui climbed in and turned it so that the canopy opening was opposite the stern of the skimmer, in which position he secured it. Krasnov was slightly built but it required all their strength to push, pull and claw him into the raft Tanya got in next, while Liang Hui set about deflating the skimmer. Its buoyancy gone it sank, carried down by the weight of the outboard engine.

Apart from the life-raft’s emergency equipment — flares, a first-aid box, packs of iron rations, a torch and desalination kits — the Liang Huis had a passenger’s flight bag inscribed ICELANDIC AIR LINES. In it were toilet and shaving gear, a flask of whisky, paperbacks, slippers and the other small impedimenta of air travellers.

They spent the next few minutes scooping water from the sea with a bailer, pouring it over themselves and Krasnov, throwing away their shoes, tearing their clothing and generally making themselves look as if they’d recently escaped from a ditched aircraft. Tanya took a large bandage from the first-aid box and wound it round Krasnov’s head, covering his eyes. With Oriental solemnity Liang-Hui gashed his own left forearm, rinsing the knife he’d used in sea water. The forearm bled copiously. With cotton wool from the first-aid box Tanya transferred her brother’s blood on to Krasnov’s bandage. By the time she’d finished the results were as convincing as Liang Hui’s arm was painful.

They’d been in the raft for some time when they heard the deep throb of diesels. Liang Hui, fearing that it might be a merchant ship, checked that the red light on the canopy was blinking. After that he kept watch at the opening. A few minutes later the long finger of a searchlight poked the sea tentatively before settling on the life-raft. As suddenly as it had appeared it was switched off. The small light which took its place flashed a series of five longs followed by five shorts.

‘It’s Bluewhale,’ he called to his sister. The excitement in his voice reminded her of the games of discovery they’d played in their childhood.

‘How marvellous,’ she said, and all her anxiety fell away.