Authors: Harry Currie
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #International Mystery & Crime, #Thrillers, #Spy Stories & Tales of Intrigue, #Espionage
“
Will you look after that part?”
“
Yeah, sure, and Taffy'll take the other side with me.”
“
Good. What about the aircraft restraints?”
“
We can't see much 'til the bleedin' tarps off,” said Ben. “'Ow many do you think there'll be?”
“
I'd guess no more than four – nose and tail on the fuselage and one on each wing. My other guess is that they've got this thing rigged for a quick get-away. That means the restraints are probably clips, but we can't be sure.”
“
No matter, Guv,” said Ben. “Dusty an' I'll 'andle 'em. He'll take the tail and the starboard wing, I'll 'andle the nose and port wing. If we can't unclip 'em, we'll cut 'em off.”
“
If you have to cut them, cut as close to the aircraft as you can. I don't want any dangling wires to foul the undercarriage or catch on anything. And by the way, we should all have electric torches. Is that possible?”
“
Right. I know where they keep a supply on the boat deck for emergencies. I'll borrow a few. Now, that just leaves Choppy.”
The pianist didn't look happy.
“I'm afraid I didn't get much about the position. The chap I know isn't on duty until 1700, so I won't know until later.”
“
It's okay. I've been up in the chart room. I knew our position just after 1400, and I have a pretty good idea of the track. If we can find out our speed for the rest of the day, we should be able to come pretty close to our exact position at 0300 tomorrow.”
“
I'll find that out later from Yuri. Now, my job will be to control the external starter. I've spent some time aboard carriers, so I'm not totally at a loss. What exactly do you need?”
“
I'm presuming that throwing the switch will activate the compressed air. You must make sure that the valves are open on the tanks, and that there's no other mechanism in the system. On my thumbs up, throw the switch. After another signal to switch off, immediately disconnect from the aircraft end. Then get out of the way. In fact, all of you, once you've done your job, clear out quickly. The engine intake is very powerful, and you could get sucked toward it. The jet exhausts are hot, and they're going to be bouncing all over that deck. And once the engine has started, there's nothing more you can do for me. I'm on my own.”
There was a pregnant silence in the library, and Ben voiced what we were all thinking.
“What if there's no power to that breaker box, Guv, or the engine doesn't start for some other reason? What then?”
“
Then we'll try to push it over the side, or put a rag in the fuel filler and light it. We're not letting them get it. I don't know where that leaves us, probably right in the shit, but that's the way I feel. If any of you want to stay out of this, no hard feelings – I mean it.”
“
No fear, Guv,” said Ben. “We was all talkin' about it, between ourselves, like, an' we're in this all the way. Whatever it takes, Mate, we're with you.”
I shook hands with each one. It was all the thanks I could give them. We agreed that if anything transpired between then and the concert, we'd get in touch, otherwise we'd have a final meeting after the concert was over.
I went down to my stateroom by the stairway. I hadn't used the elevators since I'd been aboard. Marijke was sitting near the windows, staring out at the sea.
“
Did you sleep?”
“
No. I cannot. I have too many thoughts.”
I sat beside her, taking her hand in mine, then tapped my ear. Microphones? Bugs? She shook her head.
“Do you want to talk about your thoughts, or are they private?”
“
I am in confusion about what I do.”
“
Then let's look at everything carefully. If you don't come with me tonight, what will happen to you?”
“
They will be very angry with me because I am close to you, and I don't find out what you do. Some will say I help you. They can't prove this, but they will think it. Others will say I know nothing, but they will be angry that I fail with you. I don't trap you, no pictures, no blackmail. Then I will say no more work with sex, and they are more angry. I might be finished in KGB, or I get punishment assignment.”
“
What does that mean?”
“
I am sent to bad place – maybe in north, maybe assignment to prison camp. Whatever is not good.”
A chill pierced me. I was appalled.
“For how long?”
“Maybe one year – I don't know. It depends how angry they are, and who decides.”
“
What you are telling me is that if you stay on the ship, you and I may never see each other again,” I said, hushed and stunned.
“
I think this is true.” Her eyes were tearing.
“
What happens if you come with me?”
“
Then I am happy for me. I have something I don't think I ever have all my life – love, and freedom.”
I didn't want to ask the next question.
“And what happens at home to your father and grandfather?”
“
First it looks bad for them that I do this. They are embarrassed, and they lose respect with the politburo. Then some rival says there must be investigation to find out if they are traitors to state, too. Maybe they find something, maybe not. But they make enough for suspicion, just to punish because of me. Somehow they arrange so KGB throws them out. If they find anything for treason, they are both shot, and maybe my mother is accused, too. This is for punish me. Does not matter right or wrong.”
“
What do you think is most likely? What are the chances of something giving them away?”
“
I don't know. They do this for more than twenty years and there is no suspicion. But I cause suspicion, and twenty years is looked at by enemies of my grandfather. Even if they find nothing for trouble they will lie just to get him.”
We held hands, watching the whitecaps as they rolled by the ship, isolated for a moment from the burdens of responsibility. We both knew what had to be done, and that we would do it, but for an instant of eternity we suspended thought, decision, duty.
Even the carefree waves were objects of envy.
Moscow
,
U
.
S
.
S
.
R
. –
the
same
day
Admiral Arseniy Grigoryevich Golovco, First Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the Soviet Navy, was uncomfortable. Together with most serving officers of the Soviet Armed Forces, he resented the power and interference which the KGB exercised over them.
Quiet resentment, of course. One never knew who was planted by the KGB to spy on senior officers who might make an offhand remark, and live to regret it.
Being summoned as he had by this upstart Rastvorov was particularly nauseating. Even though the admiral was senior in rank, the KGB general was always to be treated with respect and civility. One never knew what they had in their secret files.
“
So, my dear Admiral, what steps have you taken to ensure the safe passage of our little cruise ship?”
“
Yesterday, Comrade General, elements of our Black Sea Fleet went through the Dardanelles into the Mediterranean, ostensibly on exercises. Fourteen ships in all, with the heavy cruisers Admiral Nakhimov and Dzerzhinski as the command vessels. They will steam west to meet your Empress and escort her to Odessa.”
“
How many submarines are on station?”
“
I'm sorry, Comrade, I'm not allowed to disclose the number or positions of our submarine fleet. You would need a request from the KGB chairman directly to the politburo for this information.”
The admiral stifled a smug smile.
“No matter. I'm sure they are there if we need them. Have you arranged air cover as I requested?”
“
Of course. Long-range fighters with tanker support are even now monitoring our fleet and very soon your little ship. But I will feel better when it has passed Gibraltar and comes within our scope. Until then it is like a sheep away from the fold.”
*
The
Atlantic
Ocean
–
the
same
day
Dinner at the captain's table is the highest honour which can be bestowed aboard ship. It is, unfortunately, a mixed blessing. Because of its formality guests are usually not at ease, and because of protocol the guests are often chosen from those who are influential or wealthy. As one junior officer has put it: “The very, very rich, and the very, very dull.” Since I was certainly not in the first group, and, I hoped to God not in the second, I wondered what on earth I was doing there. I came to the conclusion that both Marijke and I were dressing the table, she for her beauty, and me only because of her.
The captain made sure that Marijke was at his left, and I was mixed in around the table between two older Russian ladies who spoke no English and rarely in their own language. Now and then I was offered a comment in English from Nalishkin or the captain, but most of the time I sat quietly with my Beef Wellington. We had dined earlier – 7:30 instead of the usual 8:00 – mainly because of my concert. I was glad when the captain stood to leave at nine o'clock, since the guests are imprisoned until the captain makes a move. Marijke came to me immediately.
“You don't have a good time at dinner.”
“
Not really. Those two ladies next to me hardly said 'pass the salt', and I didn't understand when they did. The captain only had eyes for you, and I was on the opposite side of the table so I couldn't even enjoy being with you. And because I'm singing I couldn't eat much. Apart from that it was wonderful.”
Marijke laughed.
“I'm sorry, David. I don't enjoy it much either. The captain tries to impress me. I don't like this man.”
We had walked from the dining room to the foyer, decided to use the lift this time, and went up to the boat deck for some air. Even with the air-conditioning on it felt stuffy at times, so it was good to get outside. We leaned on the rail, watching a passing ship on our port side.
“When you must go to Empress room?”
“
About half-an-hour. Ben said he'd have a table for us arranged near the band. I'm going to start my show from there.”
“
Oh, I don't know this, and the captain asks me to sit at his table for your show.”
“
That's tough for the captain, then. It was his dinner, so he called the shots, but this is my show, and I call them for this. I hope you don't mind.”
“
No, I don't. I tell him when we go to Empress room.”
Neither of us had said anything about later, probably because it was still part of a fantasy – the hero on his white horse saving the beautiful damsel and the two of them riding off into the sunset to live happily ever after. Reality suggested a different plot. It was just as well. I could be left with my illusions 'til after the concert.
We stopped by the stateroom to freshen up. I sucked on a Fisherman's Friend to keep my throat open and moist.
She held me for a few minutes, and I caressed her back. I could have remained there happily.
“I wish you good luck, David. I know it will be wonderful.”
“
You're not supposed to say that.”
“
Please?”
“
It's a theatrical tradition that you wish performers the opposite of what you really want for them. This way the perverse gods are fooled, and they grant what is really wanted. People most often say 'break a leg'.”
She laughed.
“This is crazy. Okay, I do it. I make up my own.” She paused. “I hope your pants fall down.”
“
Well, that's a new one,” I said, chuckling, and giving her a kiss. I held her close. “I love you.”
“
I know,” she whispered. “And I love you.”
We went to the Empress room and were shown to a table at stage right of the band, on the dais. I had easy access to the floor from here, and Marijke was close enough for me to see her. The captain and his guests were seated much farther back, and I was glad Marijke wasn't there. We had stopped to thank him for his courtesy. He smiled, reminding us of the reception after the show. I didn't want to go, but I still had to keep up appearances. The band was already playing
– they had started about an hour before to play for dancing and as an audience warm-up. They stopped for a break just after 09:45, and Ben came over to the table to check on details and join us for a drink.
“
All set, Guv?” he queried.
“
I think so. I've got my Drambuie and my coffee here on the table, my Fisherman's Friends in my pocket, and the lady of my dreams here to sing to. What more could I ask?”
“
I gave your lighting cue sheet to the bloke who runs the lights. It's pretty simple stuff, but there's a follow spot, some overheads, and he can get some colors up behind us for effect.”
“
Sounds fine. You know I'm starting from the table?”
“
Yeah. We've got it ready. The Russian MC will do 'is bit and we're off. Got to go. See you on the floor. Break a leg, Guv.”
Marijke laughed at that, leaned over and whispered,
“I hope your pants fall down.”
I squeezed her hand, the house lights went down as there was a drum roll, and the Russian MC introduced me over the band's repeated vamping of the first two bars of the intro. The only thing I understood was
“David Baird!” The spot hit me as I sang the opening lines of
Let’s
Get
Away
From
it
All
from my table:
“
Let's take a boat to Bermuda,
Let's take a plane to St. Paul,
Let's grab a kayak to Quincy or Nyack,
L
et's get away from it all…”
I stood, still singing, and walked to the center, the spot with me, and then I did a circle of the room, singing a line here and there to individuals, ending up at my table. I sang the last line,
the spot went out, and I sat down. The spot opened on the applause, but I stayed seated as the band played the next intro. The first lines of
Guanabara
Bay
were out of tempo:
“
Ah… I want to fly away―” (if only they knew!)
“
Escape the world with you for just one day;”
The band went into a bossa nova tempo.
“A… Brazilian hideaway―
On the gold
en shore of Guanabara Bay…”
I smiled at Marijke, then left the table to continue my show from in front of the band. Standards were my forte, and I interspersed ballads w
ith swing and jazz tunes.
The band was good
– tasteful and subtle at times with a nice mellow tenor sax from Ben, and they dug in hard for the up-tempo tunes. I gave each of them solo lines or choruses when it seemed right. I couldn't believe it when the hour was up.
I thanked the audience for the privilege of singing for them, wished them well in their cruise endeavor, and this was translated by the Soviet MC. Then I sang my final song,
You
Are
Here
, starting from the floor:
“
You are here, closer to my heart,
You are he
re, though we’re far apart…”
I moved around the room as I continued the song, arriving at my table and singing the last two lines to Marijke:
“But when I awake, alone with my fear – it’s so unclear,
My life won’t ever be till you are here.
”
The spot went out, I sat down, and the room erupted with applause. I stood in the spot, went to the floor to bow several times, tried to leave but couldn't
– they wouldn't let me. For an encore I did “
We'll
be
Together
Again
”, and the words nearly choked in my throat as I glanced and saw Marijke crying. When I ended I went to the table, reached across and held her hands. I didn't care who saw, but I knew I was being imprudent in the light of what was to follow.
When the band began to play a tune I was besieged by well-wishers, many who simply wished to shake my hand and say thank you. I signed autographs, many on copies of my two LP's. Nalishkin and Tatania Volodin were effusive in their comments, and said they would see me in the club room where the captain was hosting a reception for me. Then Marijke and I escaped from the crowd.
“Is it always like this, David?” she asked as we took the lift to the boat deck.
“
Sometimes it's worse – people can get out of control, especially if they've had too much to drink. Worse than that is when there's no one around and you don't know why. It's a strange business.”
She rubbed my arm.
“You were wonderful, David. The last songs you sing – I know you mean them for me and for you.” Marijke hesitated. I feared her next words. “I think you understand what I must say about going with you.”
I looked at the sea.
“Yes, I know. I wish it could be different.”
“
I don't try to explain. I say it all before.” There was a long pause and she gripped my arm tightly. “Now we go to captain's reception. Then we can be together until you must leave?”
“
Yes, for most of the time. I must meet with the band for a few minutes when they finish playing. Marijke, there is one thing I need which none of us can get. I don't know if I should ask you.”
“
Please, tell me. What is this you need?”
“
A gun – an automatic, preferably, with a suppressor, that’s a silencer.”
“KGB has them. I get one for you.”
“
I don't want you to do this. If you can find out where there is one, tell me and we'll do the rest. Don't try to take it. It isn't worth the risk.”
“
Then I tell you now. Nalishkin has gun with silencer. He doesn't carry it in dinner jacket – I know this from other times. When he travels, he keeps it in pocket in suitcase.”
“
What's his cabin number?”
“
A14.”
“
Okay. I'll organize something. Let's go to the club room.”
We walked one deck down to the promenade, then went forward to the club room. I was glad to see there were quite a few people present – It lessened the amount of serious conversation. The captain spotted us immediately, at least, he spotted Marijke and I happened to be standing beside her.
“Ah, the star of show!” he boomed. “Is wery good sing-er! A toast!”
He rattled something off in Russian. There was a chorus of responses, they drank, then applause. I thanked them in English for their gracious hospitality, and Marijke translated. Then, thankfully, they got on with their own conversations. Nalishkin came over as Marijke was monopolized by the captain.