The Savage Day - Jack Higgins [27]
I nodded and replied on our own foghorn with exactly the same signal. I told Binnie to return to the prow, throttled back and coasted in gently. The foghorn sounded again, very close now which surprised me, for by my reckoning we still had a good quarter of a mile to go.
I replied again as agreed and in the same moment some strange instinct, product, I suppose, of several years of rather hard living, told me that something was very wrong indeed. Too late, of course, for a moment later, a searchlight picked us out of the darkness, there was a rumble of engines breaking into life and an MTB cut across our bow.
I was aware of the white ensign fluttering bravely in the dim light and then the sudden menacing chatter of a heavy machine-gun above our heads.
As I ducked instinctively, she cut in again and an officer on the bridge called through a loud-hailer, 'I'm coming aboard. Heave to or I sink you.'
Norah Murphy appeared in the doorway at the same moment. 'What are we going to do?' she demanded.
'I should have thought that was obvious.'
I cut the engines, switched on the deck lights and lit a cigarette. Binnie had moved along the deck and was standing outside the open window.
I said, 'Remember, boy, no heroics. Nothing to be gained.'
As the MTB came alongside, a couple of ratings jumped down to our deck, a line was thrown and quickly secured. The standard sub-machine-gun in general use by the Royal Navy is the Sterling, so it was something of a surprise when a Petty Officer appeared at the rail above holding a Thompson gun ready for action, the 1921 model with the hundred drum magazine. The officer appeared beside him, a big man in a standard reefer coat and peaked cap, a pair of night glasses slung about his neck.
Norah Murphy sucked in her breath sharply. 'My God,' she said. 'Frank Barry.'
It was a name I'd heard before and then I remembered. My cell on Skarthos and the Brigadier briefing me on the IRA and its various splinter groups. Fanatical fringe elements who wanted to blow up every thing in sight and the worst of the lot were Frank Barry's Sons of Erin.
He leaned over the rail and grinned down at her. 'In the flesh and twice as handsome. Good night to you, Norah Murphy.'
Binnie made a sudden, convulsive movement and Barry said genially, 'I wouldn't, Binnie, me old love. Tim Pat here would cut you in half.'
One of the two ratings who had already boarded relieved Binnie of his Browning.
I leaned out of the window and said softly, 'Friends of yours, Binnie?'
'Friends?' he said bitterly. 'Major, I wouldn't cut that bloody lot down if they were hanging.'
6
Bloody Passage
The man with the Thompson gun, the one dressed as a Petty Officer whom Barry had called Tim Pat, came over the rail to confront us. On closer inspection he proved to have only one eye, but otherwise bore a distinct resemblance to the great Victor McLaglen in one of those roles where he looks ready to clear the bar of some waterfront saloon on his own at any moment.
Barry dropped down beside him, a handsome, lean-faced man with one side of his mouth hooked into a slight, perpetual half smile as if permanently amused by the world and its inhabitants.
'God save the good work, Norah.' He took off his cap and turned a cheek towards her. 'Have you got a kiss for me?'
Binnie swung a punch at him which Barry blocked easily and Tim Pat got an arm about the boy's throat and squeezed.
'I've told you before, Norah,' Barry said, shaking his head. 'You should never use a boy when a man's work is needed.'
I think she could have killed him then. Certainly she looked capable of it, eyes hot in that pale face of hers, but always there was that iron control. God knows what was needed to break her, but I doubted whether Barry was capable.
He shrugged, lit a cigarette, turning to me as he flicked the match over the rail. 'Now you, Major,' he said, 'look like a sensible man to me.'
'And where exactly does that get us?'
'To you telling me where you've got the stuff stowed away. We'll find it in the end, but I'd rather