To Risks Unknown by Douglas Reeman

Author:Douglas Reeman [Reeman, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, War & Military
ISBN: 9781448106134
Google: TENUCwAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0099055708
Publisher: Random House
Published: 1986-08-14T14:00:00+00:00

10. A Man Called Soskic

IN THE DREAM the girl was lying motionless beneath him, her perfect body clearly outlined by endless darkness. But he was being pulled away, and no matter how hard he tried to hold her, those other hands seemed to be lifting him, dragging him free, while the deep shadow overlapped and covered her limbs like water.

A voice said, ‘About time! You sailors can sleep through anything!’

Reluctantly Crespin rolled on to his side and opened his eyes. Barely inches away Coutts’ face shone in shaded torchlight like an unshaven genie, with no more reality than the dream.

He asked, ‘What time is it, for heaven’s sake?’

‘Nearly six, old son.’ Coutts held out a chipped mug. ‘Drink this, it’ll bring the colour back to your cheeks.’

He propped himself on one elbow sipping the bitter coffee while his mind slowly returned to life and understanding. Apart from the torchlight, the small cabin was in darkness, and he could hear the schooner’s crew snoring or turning restlessly on their bunks, while around him the hull creaked and shivered, the sea sluicing against the worn planks barely inches from his head.

Coutts said cheerfully, ‘Dawn’s coming up.’

Crespin peered at his watch. It was the fifth dawn since leaving Malta. For days they had pushed steadily north-east, using the sails and occasionally running the ancient engine when the wind looked like dying on them. It had been a strange and unnatural existence, with an overwhelming sense of loneliness and vulnerability as hour by hour they had watched the horizons and the sky, expecting to see a prowling aircraft or a telltale smudge of smoke, any of which could spell disaster. On the third day they altered course almost due north towards the Otranto Strait, a forty-mile bottleneck which marked the entrance of the Adriatic. It was known to be heavily patrolled by sea and air, and with Italy on one side and Albania on the other it was generally described as impossible to pass. Even submarines, the only warships which had so far penetrated into these waters, had been hard put to get out again unmolested.

Coutts took the mug and put it on the table. ‘Thought you’d like to come on deck and take a look at the land.’ He grinned. ‘It’s quite romantic in the first light.’

Crespin pulled on his shoes and followed him up the ladder.

The sky was already much lighter, the breeze cool and refreshing, making the big sails crack and shiver above their heads as Coutts pointed across the starboard bulwark. ‘Corfu!’

Crespin nodded. The island arose from the sea in a dark blue hump, the top of which seemed to shine with a faint luminous glow. Soon the sun would make its appearance, and once again the little schooner would be pinned down in the glare like a moth on a sheet of silk.

Coutts added quietly, ‘It’ll take about nine hours to reach the narrows and pass through the Strait.’

They had discussed that moment many times in the last few days.

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