‘It’ll have to be foul,’ Etherington said thoughtfully, and then swept magnificently into action.
Within half an hour Shaw was on his way with a faked-up diplomatic passport in his pocket. At the airport, where his way had been tactfully but firmly cleared by telephone from the Embassy, he boarded a flight south for Punta Arenas in Chile. At Punta Arenas, where the British Vice-Consul had also been warned about him by cable in the meantime, he went aboard a small chartered plane for Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands. On a somewhat breathless arrival he was met by the Colonial Secretary and escorted in the latter’s car to the gangway of the U.S.S North Dakota. He just about made it — and was greeted with the news, received by radio shortly before, that the bombers had failed utterly to locate the Moehne and had been forced to return to base before their fuel ran out.
A little before 2100 hours the cruiser left Port Stanley and headed out for the rendezvous. Shaw felt a thrill of excitement as he stood with the ship’s Commanding Officer, Captain John MacKail, on the glass-enclosed navigating bridge while the North Dakota went fast out of the harbour and turned south to meet a rising wind and sea.
Chapter Twenty-Six
They were clear now of Port Stanley harbour, standing well to the south into increasingly filthy weather conditions before turning westward for the rendezvous position. MacKail, a heavily-built man with immense shoulders, who had been taciturn and uncommunicative while taking his ship out of harbour, came up to Shaw and put a hand on his arm.
Looking into his face, dimly outlined in the faint glow from the bowl of the gyro-repeater, MacKail said, ‘Well now, Commander. If you’d care to step down to my sea-cabin, maybe we can have a chat over a cup of coffee.’
‘I’d like to.’
MacKail, after a word with his Officer-of-the-Deck, led the way into the after part of the bridge and down a ladder to a small cabin in the superstructure below the bridge itself. He pushed the door open and Shaw went into warmth and comfort. MacKail said, ‘Sit down.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
MacKail pulled off his thick outer clothing and then jabbed a hairy-backed finger at a button. Almost at once a coloured rating appeared. ‘Coffee,’ MacKail said. ‘Hot and strong, for two.’ When the man had gone he said, ‘Now, Commander. You can talk as freely as you like. Seeing what we’ve been ordered to do, the Admiral and all Commanding Officers in the squadron have been entrusted with the secrets. Reached us by radio, along with our changed orders. I hardly need to tell you it’s all Top Secret still, back in the States.’ He pushed a box of Chesterfields over to Shaw, who took one. MacKail had a curious habit every now and then of blowing out his cheeks rapidly and then opening his lips suddenly. He did this twice in succession each time so that the breaking of the seal, as it were, made a small sound like oompah, oompah. Shaw found this distracting… MacKail flicked a lighter and held it out to him. The American took a long pull at his cigarette and sat back in his chair, blowing the smoke in twin jets from his nostrils. He said quietly, looking Shaw right in the eye, ‘I’d just like to tell you, there’s not one of our ships that doesn’t have around a couple of hundred guys aboard from one or other of the areas that might be hit when that goddam missile goes up. Mostly from Norfolk, Virginia, or around that way — handy for the Navy Operating Base, see. They haven’t been told the details, of course, except certain communicators who have to know, but they all know something big is on and that we have to get the Moehne if it’s the last thing we ever do.’ He paused. ‘Me, I’m from just out of Norfolk. And back home I have a wife and three kids, two boys and a girl.’ He pointed. ‘Over there, if you want to look.’
He was pointing to a shelf behind Shaw, who looked round and studied the photograph. MacKail’s wife would be around thirty-five, he guessed. She had a sweet face and a nice smile and she was blonde, with a good figure… the Captain was a lucky man. The children looked nice, too. Their ages, MacKail told him, ranged from four to ten, and the elder boy was a real chip off the old block.
‘Wants to follow his old man into the Navy,’ MacKail said as though reading his thoughts. He blew out his cheeks. ‘I aim to see that he achieves that ambition. Right?’
He shot the word out almost accusingly. Shaw said quietly, ‘Right.’
‘So can you tell me anything that’ll help?’
Shaw shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not,’ he admitted. ‘If it comes to a boarding-party, I can be useful. I know the lay-out of the ship. So if you do decide to board, I’d like to go with the sailors. But that’s about all I can do… I couldn’t, for instance, say where the Moehne might be by now. I dare say,’ he added, ‘you’ve been told she’s capable of around thirty-three knots—’
He broke off as a tap came at the door and a lieutenant commander came in with a message blank in his hand.
MacKail looked round. ‘Yes?’
‘Message from the Chief of Naval Operations, sir.’
‘Right.’ MacKail took the form, read it, let out a long breath and nodded. ‘Thank you,’ he said. As the officer left he looked across at Shaw, grinning. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘that’s it, Commander. We have it.’
Shaw stiffened expectantly. ‘The postponement?’
‘Yep. We have a twenty-four extension and that’s the lot. That’s final. Warmaster goes up from Canaveral at noon the day after tomorrow. Just as well we got that extension, because this ship at any rate can’t make the Horn before noon tomorrow and I guess that goes for the others too. Meanwhile the target area remains sealed to all shipping as of midnight tonight. You know something?’ he added suddenly. ‘The extra time’s a help, sure it is, but — well, I guess someone in the Pentagon’s just not inclined to believe this threat’s real, even now.’
Shaw dragged on his cigarette, then said slowly, ‘That’s just what I’ve been thinking, what I’ve been afraid of ever since I got away from the Moehne. Not that they’d disbelieve my report as such, I don’t mean that, but perhaps they don’t believe Fleck could do what he said. I know it does all sound God-almighty crazy, Captain, but then no one in the Pentagon has met Fleck and this chap Schillenhorst. I have!’
MacKail looked at him narrowly, ‘And you think they can do it?’
‘Yes! I’m no technical expert, but that lot wasn’t aboard the Moehne just so Fleck could play at sailors. Schillenhorst knew what he was doing, all right! I’m convinced of that. He can do it and the threat’s real enough.’
They steamed ahead at top speed, westerly now in gradually deteriorating weather. While Shaw was still with MacKail in the sea-cabin, the Captain was called to the bridge for the rendezvous. Shaw went up with him. MacKail ordered a reduction in speed and had the helm put over to circle and wait. They waited with as much patience as they could and then after fifteen minutes the rest of the squadron, two heavy cruisers, were reported coming down fast from the north. A few minutes after that the R/T began crackling. The Admiral was passing the course and speed and giving his orders for taking station. The North Dakota executed a wide turn to starboard, increased speed again, and came up astern of the other ships. When he was in position MacKail reported back to the Admiral and then once more the North Dakota thundered ahead, with icy spray and solid water flinging aft along her streaming decks, decks that seemed mostly to be submerged, lifting clear at intervals to send great rivers of green water cascading from her fo’c’sle and waist to drop like thunder back into the sea.