The Operations- Jonathan Anders series Omnibus by Christopher Nicole

Author:Christopher Nicole [Nicole, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2020-01-08T22:00:00+00:00

Jonathan ran down the steps and along the corridor, reeling from side to side with every roll of the schooner. His brain felt equally unbalanced. Clearly the fire could not be an accident, in view of the tampered pumps. Just as clearly Benny was responsible, but as Benny the steward, or General Pobrenski? And what had happened to him since the alarm?

He opened the door of the master stateroom. Aristotle snarled, and Mrs. Malthus sighed. She lay on her back, her pillow over her face, and waved her hand at him. “Oh, Aristotle, do be quiet. Is the fire out, Jonathan?”

“I’m afraid it’s not going out, Mrs. Malthus. It’s everybody on deck, with their life jackets. Hurry now.”

“Oh, dear. I’m going to be sick. I just know I’m going to be sick. Aristotle? Where are you, pet? Aristotle?”

Jonathan opened the next door. Brian O’Connor knelt on his berth, staring through the porthole at the night, at the seas which were starting to lose their crests in the rising wind.

“The fire’s out of control, Doctor. We’re abandoning ship.”

“Into these seas? But Mr. Malthus has sent for help, of course?”

“No, he hasn’t, Dr. O’Connor. He’s wrecked the radio rather than allow anyone to send a message.”

“Good heavens.” The psychiatrist frowned. “Do you really work for the British Government, Mr. Anders?”

“I do, Doctor. But we really haven’t the time to discuss that now. Would you take your life belt and go on deck? I’ll fetch Geraldine.”

She had prudently changed into slacks and a shirt, sat on her bunk, elbows on knees, chin on hands, swaying in time to the ship. “What do you want?”

“You. This ship is sinking.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Listen, sweetheart, the time for games is over. We are going to be very lucky to get out of this alive. Do you have a life belt?”

“Over there.”

Jonathan dropped it over her head, tied the cords front and back. “It suits you.”

She made a face. “What about you?”

“I didn’t know I mattered.”

“Oh, you! There’s a spare in the wardrobe.” She ran out of the door. Jonathan put on the other life belt, closed the door behind him. By now the cabins were filling with smoke that billowed along the corridor, and the steps up to the wheelhouse were hot; no one else was going to get out from down here. He stumbled up, helped Geraldine get her father on deck. Now the true extent of their danger became apparent. The night was utterly dark, except for the whitecaps which raced past the rolling schooner, every so often breaking on the bows to cascade as spray over the foredeck. Right forward the crew, directed by Strohm and Byrne, were unshipping the motor launch. He could hear Aristotle barking, and discovered Phyllis Malthus, the dog locked in her arms, huddled behind the shelter of the forward deckhouse.

“Where’s your husband?” The wind muffled his words.

“I don’t know,” she cried. “He went down the forehatch. Said something about looking for that dreadful man Benny.”

Jonathan staggered across the deck, ducked into the hatchway.

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