Passage by Night - Jack Higgins [42]
There was another small silence and she said, 'What happens now?'
'We make for Spanish Cay. I must tell Morrison about Viner as soon as possible.'
'And afterwards, when the whole thing's over and done with?'
'Who knows? I'll think of something.'
For a little while longer, she stayed within the circle of his arms and then she pulled herself free and crossed to the door. 'I'll see how Papa is.'
'It's no good, Anna,' Manning said quietly. 'I'm twenty years too old for you.'
'I wouldn't be too sure about that,' she said and the door closed softly behind her.
She had left the pack of cigarettes on the chart table and he lit one and sighed heavily. Life was like the circles rain made on the surface of a pond, constantly running into each other. No sooner had a man moved out of one situation than he found himself up to his neck in another. He settled back in his chair, moved course a point to the east and concentrated on his steering.
Orlov relieved him at one A.M. and he went below. Papa Melos was still out cold and Anna was sleeping peacefully, her head pillowed on one arm. He flopped down on the spare bunk and stared up at the bulkhead, thinking about everything, but great waves of tiredness swept over him. Within a few minutes, he was sleeping soundly.
* * *
He came awake to an insistent pressure on his shoulder and looked up into Anna's anxious face. He sat up quickly and swung his legs to the floor.
'What is it?'
'Something's wrong with the boat. She's not handling right. Sergi wants you on deck.'
It was then he noticed her father sitting huddled at the table, a mug of coffee in his hands. 'How do you feel?'
The old man's face was grey and wrinkled, the eyes like black holes, but he managed a ghastly grin. 'Better get up top and see what's wrong.'
The boat was rolling sluggishly, that much was self-evident as Manning went up the companionway, and her speed was greatly reduced. As he went out on deck, a strong east wind dashed spray in his face, but the sky was still clear and visibility good as the moon travelled towards the horizon.
The Russian turned from the wheel, an expression of relief on his face. 'I don't know what's wrong, but something is.'
Manning took over. The steering was sluggish and heavy and yet the throttle was fully open. He turned to Orlov. 'Keep her as steady as you can and I'll check the engine.'
As he went back on deck, Anna emerged from the companionway. 'Better have a look below, Harry.'
Manning followed her down to the cabin and paused in the doorway. A good inch of water slopped across the floor and Papa Melos had the hatch open.
He turned and shook his head. 'She's filling up fast, Harry. There must be a hole in her somewhere.'
'Probably that blasted machine gun when we were running out of San Juan,' Manning said. 'Where's the pump?'
'In the stern, Anna told him. 'I'll show you. I'm afraid it's only hand-operated.'
He groaned. 'That's all we needed.'
He crouched in the stern while Anna held a flashlight and primed the pump and then got to work, swinging the lever vigorously until a stream of discoloured water gushed across the deck and over the side.
He changed hands frequently and, after half an hour, there was a noticeable change in the way the boat was behaving. He handed over to Anna and went into the wheelhouse.
'Keep her moving at full speed,' he told Orlov. 'It looks as if we sustained some damage below the waterline running out of San Juan. I'm going to take a look.'
When he went below, Papa Melos had the hatch cover off again and was peering into the scuppers. He turned and nodded.
'Still plenty there, but nothing like as bad.'
'I'll go in and take a look,' Manning said.
He had perhaps three feet in which to move and there was a good eighteen inches of water slopping over the ribs. He went in feet first, the flashlight between his teeth, acutely aware of the stench that is always to be found in any ship's bilge. He