Without remorse - Tom Clancy [12]
'Yeah, well, we rescued six boats already, just this one still missing. You see anything unusual last night?'
'No. Came outa Baltimore around ... oh, sixteen hundred, I suppose. Two and a half hours to get here. Anchored right after the storm hit. Visibility was ptetty bad, didn't see much of anything before we went below.'
'We,' Oreza observed, stretching. He walked over to the wheel, picked up the rain-soaked halter, and tossed it to Kelly. The look on his face was neutral, but there was interest behind the eyes. He hoped his friend had found someone; Life hadn't been especially fair to the man.
Kelly handed the cup back with a similarly neutral expression.
'There was one freighter coming out behind us,' he went on. 'Italian flag, container boat about half full, must have been knocking down fifteen knots. Anybody else clear the harbor?'
'Yeah.' Oreza nodded and spoke with professional irritation. 'I'm worried about that. Fuckin' merchies plowing out at full speed, not paying attention.'
'Well, hell, you stand outside the wheelhouse, you might get wet. Besides, sea-and-anchor detail might violate some union rule, right? Maybe your guy got run down,' Kelly noted darkly. It wouldn't have been the first time, even on a body of water as civilized as the Chesapeake:
'Maybe,' Oreza said, surveying the horizon. He frowned, not believing the suggestion and too tired to hide it. 'Anyway, you see a little day-sailer with an orange-and-white candystripe sail, you want to give me a call?'
'No problem.'
Oreza looked forward and turned back. 'Two anchors for that little puff o' wind we had? They're not far enough apart. Thought you knew better.'
'Chief Bosun's Mate,' Kelly reminded him. 'Since when does a bookkeeper get that snotty with a real seaman?' It was only a joke. Kelly knew Portagee was the better man in a small boat. Though not by much of a margin, and both knew that, too.
Oreza grinned on his way back to the cutter. After jumping back aboard, he pointed to the halter in Kelly's hand. 'Dont forget to put your shirt on, Boats! Looks like it oughta fit just fine.' A laughing Oreza disappeared inside the wheelhouse before Kelly could come up with a rejoinder. There appeared to be someone inside who was not in uniform, which surprised Kelly. A moment later, the cutter's engines tumbled anew and the fotty-one-boat moved northwest.
'Good mornin'.' It was Pam. 'What was that?'
Kelly turned. She wasn't wearing any more now than when he'd put the blanket on her, but Kelly instantly decided that the only time she'd surprise him again would be when she did something predictable. Her hair was a medusalike mass of tangles, and her eyes were unfocused, as though she'd not slept well at all.
'Coast Guard. They're looking for a missing boat. How'd you sleep?'
'Just fine.' She came over to him. Her eyes had a soft, dreamlike quality that seemed strange so early in the morning, but could not have been more attractive to the wide-awake sailor.
'Good morning.' A kiss. A hug. Pam held her arms aloft and executed something like a pirouette. Kelly grabbed her slender waist and hoisted her aloft.
'What do you want for breakfast?' he asked.
'I don't eat breakfast,' Pam replied, reaching down for him.
'Oh.' Kelly smiled. 'Okay.'
She changed her mind about an hour later. Kelly fixed eggs and bacon on the galley stove, and Pam wolfed it down so speedily that he fixed seconds despite her protests. On further inspection, the girl wasn't merely thin, some of her ribs were visible. She was undernourished, an observation that prompted yet another unasked question. But whatever the cause, he could remedy it. Once she'd consumed four eggs, eight slices of bacon, and five pieces of toast, roughly double Kelly's normal morning intake, it was time for the day to begin properly. He showed her how to work the galley appliances while he saw to recovering the anchors.
They got back under way just shy of a lazy eight o'clock. It promised to be a hot, sunny Saturday. Kelly