Devil May Care - Sebastian Faulks [99]
‘ There’s one thing we didn’t think of,’ said Scarlett.
‘I know,’ said Bond. ‘White nights. It’s the worst time of year.’
‘Jaska says it will get a bit darker – like dusk. And at least it’s clouded over.’
Bond sat back against the side of the boat. ‘ There are some moments, Scarlett,’ he said, ‘when you just have to place your life in the hands of others. Trust them.’
‘I know. And I like the look of this one.’
‘Mercenary and embittered,’ said Bond. ‘A good man to have on your side at a time like this.’
Jaska steered the boat wherever he found shadows in the jagged archipelago, but after half an hour of creeping in the lee of the small islands, it was time to move into the open sea.
Scarlett had had time to prepare a basket of food, which she now unpacked. There was bread, sausage, cheese and vodka.
‘It was the best I could find,’ she said.
Jaska helped them get through it, chewing hungrily at the wheel, his eyes never leaving the horizon. An hour passed, then another, and the night grew
as dark as it could manage – the shade of an autumn dusk, as Jaska had predicted. When they were well clear of Leningrad but also far from the border, he lowered the twin Evinrudes over the stern. He spoke to Scarlett in Russian.
‘He says we’ll use the outboards to make up some time,’ she translated. ‘ They’re too noisy near the land or the frontier, but we can blast on for an hour or so now.’
Bond felt a welcome surge as the old fishing-boat began to part the water with more purpose. It was about a hundred and fifty miles to Hamina, and although they were now travelling at about twentyfive knots, they had previously been doing less than half that. He calculated that they must still be two hours short of the maritime border.
Jaska asked Bond to take the wheel while he decanted fuel from the drums into smaller cans with which he replenished the tanks.
When Jaska had resumed his position, Bond rejoined Scarlett on the bench. ‘How do you feel?’
She smiled. ‘Safe. And you?’
‘I’m enjoying it,’ said Bond. It was true. ‘ The strange light, the sea. The company.’
Eventually, Jaska turned off the outboard motors and lifted them back in.
‘He says we’ll be making the hand-over in forty minutes,’ said Scarlett. ‘We have to go quiet again.’
Jaska picked up a radio mouthpiece from next to the wheel and spoke into it. After a short pause there was a crackling reply.
The sailor’s face remained impassive as he replaced the radio. He spoke again to Scarlett.
‘ There are Soviet naval patrol vessels to the north and south,’ she translated, ‘but one of them’s been distracted by a tanker from Tallinn that’s gone off
course.’
In the dusk ahead, like a ghost vessel, Bond saw the outline of a fishing-boat similar to their own. He pointed to it and Jaska turned his head. For the first time, the lined, weatherbeaten face broke into a smile.
‘Yes,’ he said in English. ‘My brother.’
The two boats bore slowly down on one another in a light mist that rose from the sea. The night had grown cold, and Scarlett put on the garage woman’s cardigan as she slipped her arm through Bond’s. Jaska slowed the engine as the two boats came alongside, miles from land in the middle of the great empty sea. There was a jolt as the sides of the vessels touched and Jaska tossed a line over.
Scarlett stood up and crossed to the starboard side. Jaska held out his hand to steady her and she threw
her arms round him briefly. ‘ Spasibo. Ochen spasibo. Thank you.’
Bond shook his hand. ‘ Thank you, Jaska.’
Jaska held Bond’s hand between both of his and for a moment the two men looked into each other’s eyes.
Then Bond was gone, over into the second boat, while Jaska had pushed off and was already preparing his fishing-nets so that he could show a legitimate purpose for his night-time excursion if anyone should stop him on the way home.
Scarlett and Bond waved briefly in the mist, then settled in for the final part of the journey. Jaska’s brother was called Veli and looked at least ten years younger. He moved vigorously about his small craft