Sad Wind From the Sea - Jack Higgins [35]
He went down to the engine-room and found O'Hara oiling various parts of the engine in the pale, oil-sick light of an inspection lamp. The noise was so deafening that he had to tap the old man on the shoulder and point upwards with his thumb. They scrambled up on deck and Hagen said, 'Everything all right?'
'Fine,' the old man said. 'Those engines will run from now till Domesday.'
'Good, I've decided to increase to top speed now.'
O'Hara's eyes widened in surprise. 'But I thought you wanted to maintain a constant speed,' he said. 'You worked it all out.'
Hagen nodded. 'Yes, I know, but I've been thinking. If we maintain a cruising speed we'll pass through the Hainan Straits about noon tomorrow. There's usually a lot of light naval craft around there and a small boat like ours would excite their damned curiosity. Another thing; what if Kossoff has alerted the Red naval base at Kiung Chow on Hainan Island? He's a smart man. He'd give them orders to let us through but to tip him off that we were on the way. That's no good. I want to take the bastard by surprise.'
O'Hara nodded. 'Sounds fine to me but what about the rest of the trip? We can't approach the marshes in daylight.'
Hagen nodded. 'We won't need to. After we're through the straits I'll reduce speed and we can take it easy tomorrow.'
O'Hara suddenly exploded with laughter and took out his pipe. 'My God, but 'tis a hell of a thing we're trying to get away with this time, lad, and I'm only just beginning to realize it. Ah, well. They say the divil looks after his own.'
Hagen went into the wheelhouse and told Mason to increase speed and then he went down to the cabin and flopped down on his bunk. He lay staring at the bulkhead and thinking about the gold and the marshes and the girl. He could hear a low rumble of voices from the galley and knew that O'Hara must be sampling some of Rose's coffee. Once she laughed quite distinctly and he found himself smiling with her and then the sound of the voices began to merge with the throb of the engine and the splashing of the sea.
He was not conscious of having slept, only of being suddenly awake and looking at his watch and realizing, with a sense of shock, that it was three in the morning. He pulled on a heavy reefer coat and as he buttoned it up around his throat he heard a grunt as someone turned in his sleep. He struck a match and discovered Mason, a sardonic quirk on his lips even in sleep. He quietly left the cabin and went up on deck.
There was a slight sea-mist lifting off the water and Hurrier was kicking along at a tremendous pace. There was no moon but the night sky was a jewel-studded delight and there was still that peculiar luminosity to the water. He walked along the heaving deck and opened the glass-panelled door of the wheelhouse. O'Hara was standing at the wheel and a fine, weird figure he cut. The only illumination was the compass light which, being directly beneath his face, shone upwards, so that the first hurried impression was of a disembodied face floating five and a half feet above the ground. 'How are things going?' Hagen said.
'Couldn't be better. You'd think the old girl had an engagement with a gentleman at the other end, the way she's lifting along.'
As he slipped to one side to allow Hagen to take over the wheel there was a distinct aroma of rum. For a moment anger welled in Hagen and then he restrained it. After all, the old man had done a good day's work. As O'Hara went out Hagen called: 'Go easy on that rum. I don't want you starting a jag.'
'Now you know you can depend on me, lad,' O'Hara said in a hurt voice. He moved away along the deck whistling a sadly gay little jig.
Hagen put a cigarette in his mouth and, pulling