She heard the engineer answer yes in Russian and nod his head to a question from the voice-pipe. An order followed. The voice was angry. As she reached the foot of the ladder she looked back. The engineer's smiling face had been transformed into a mask of malice. She went up the ladder as he ran across the engine room deck after her. At the top of the ladder she turned around. She saw a pbol of petrol spreading over the deck, and the engineer stepping on the bottom rung of the ladder. In her hand she still held the cigarette he had given her. She threw it toward the engine, aimmg at the place where the petrot was squirting out of the pipe. She did not wait to see it land. She carried on up the ladder. Her head and shoulders were emerging on to the next deck when there was a loud whooosh, a bright red light from below, and a wave of scorching heat. Suza screamed as her trousers caught fire and the skm of her legs burned. She jumped the last few inches of the ladder and rolled. She beat at her trousers, then struggled out of her oilskin and managed to wrap it around her legs. The fire was killed, but the pain got worm She wanted to collapse. She knew if she lay down she would pass out and the pain would go, but she had to get away from the fire, and she had to be somewhere where Nat could find her. She forced herself to stand up. Her legs felt as if they were still burning. She looked down to see bits like burned paper falling off, and she wondered if they were bits of trouser or bits of leg. She took a step. She could walk. She staggered along the gangway. The fire alarm began to sound all over the ship. She reached the end of the gangway and leaned on the ladder. Up, she had to go up. She raised one foot, placed it on the bottom rang, and bo. San the longest climb of her life.
Chapter Eighteen
For the second time in twenty-four hours Nat Dickstein was crossing huge seas in a small boat to board a ship held by the enemy. He was dressed as before, with life jacket, oilskin, and sea boots; and armed as before with submachine gun, pistol and grenades; but this time he was alone, and he was terrified. There had been an argument aboard the Coparelli about what to do after Suza's radio message. Her dialogue with Dickstein had been listened to by the captain, Feinberg, and Ish. They had seen the jubilation in Nat's face, and they had felt entitled to argue that his judgment was being distorted by personal involvement. "It's a trap," argued Feinberg. "They can't catch us, so they want us to turn and fight." "I know Rostov," Dickstein said hotly. 'qbis is exactly how his mind works: he waits for you to make a break, then he pounces. This ramming idea has his name written an over it. Feinberg got angry. 'This isn't a game, Dickstein." "Listen, Nat," Ish said more reasonably, "let's us Oarry on and be ready to fight if and when they catch us. What have we got to gain by sending a boarding party?" "I'm not suggesting a boarding party. I'm going alone." "Don't be a damn fool," Ish said. "If you go, so do weyou can't take a ship alone." "Look," Dickstein said, trying to pacify them. "If I make it, the Karla will never catch this ship. If I don't, the rest of you can still fight when the Karla gets to you. And if the Karla really can't catch you, and it's a trap, then I'm the only one who falls into it. It's the best way." "I don't think it's the best way," Feinberg said. "Nor do I," Ish said.