Medusa (32 page)

‘Starb'd,' I said, and he swung in a tight arc, passing so close under the bows I thought he would smash into the anchor cable. The engine slowed, then died with a cough as he brought the inflatable alongside where the accommodation ladder had been lifted clear of the water. By then I had Petra's big torch beamed on the bridge, flicking the switch on and off – three dots, three dashes, three dots – hoping that whoever was on watch would realise the SOS was to signify urgency, not just some drunk from the shore playing silly buggers. I could hear the hum of the ship's machinery now, sense the power of the organisation that was in her. ‘Ahoy there.
Medusa!
' I was shouting for the Officer of the Day, the Captain, anyone, my voice raised high, desperate with the need to be got on board quickly.
A face under a sailor's hat leaned out above me. ‘Wot you want?'

‘The Captain,' I shouted up to him. ‘Tell the Captain it's Mike Steele and it's urgent. Every minute counts.' A door slammed and a beam of light was directed straight at me, my eyes blinded, and a voice said, ‘Good evening, sir. You come to return that beard we lent you?' It was young Davison, the officer-under-training, and he was grinning. ‘The Captain!' I yelled at him again.

‘The Captain's asleep, sir.'

‘Well, wake him up. And get me on board. I have information for him that must be transmitted to London immediately.'

He stood there for a moment, mouth agape, gazing down at me. I could see his brain working, trying to decide whether this was a joke or something deadly serious. Fortunately the beard was in my pocket, where it had been for some time now, otherwise he might have thought I was fooling. ‘Hurry, man! For God's sake hurry!'

He nodded, suddenly seeming to pull himself together as he ordered a sailor to lower the ladder, then turned and ran to the bridge. He was back by the time I had scrambled up to the deck. ‘This way, sir. Captain says to take you to his cabin.'

Gareth was in his dressing gown as I was shown in, his face pale, his hair tousled. ‘Thank you, Davison. That'll do.' He turned to me. ‘Now, what's this all about?'

I made it as short as possible, but before I had finished he had reached for the phone, flicking a switch. ‘Captain. Call all hands. Lieutenant Commander Mault to my cabin immediately.' He had pulled out a notebook and was flicking through the pages. ‘Anchored out here we're not on a land line, so we have to slot in to the telephone system through ship-to-shore. However, I can contact the Naval Base on UHF.' He was reaching for the phone again when Davison's voice broke in on the loudspeaker – ‘Captain, sir. This is the bridge.' He sounded a bit nervous,
very excited. There's what sounds like shots coming from the direction of La Mola – and, sir, we're just picking up bursts of machine-gun fire from the town now.'

‘Very good, I'll be up.' Gareth turned to glance at the wall clock, picking up a comb and smoothing his hair. The second hand flicked to the vertical. It was exactly 03.31. ‘From what you've told me, looks like the time of attack on all objectives was zero-three-thirty.' And he added, ‘I've been expecting something like this.' He slipped out of his dressing gown and began pulling on trousers and white polo-necked sweater over his pyjamas. ‘But not those logistic craft.' He had me describe in detail the scene on the quay at Addaia. ‘You're certain it was Pat? He was on that fishing boat of yours and led them in?'

‘Yes,' I said. ‘And he was organising them ashore.'

‘The whole thing – I mean, the men who came ashore from those LCTs as well as the locals? You're sure?'

‘I think so.' It was obvious he didn't want to believe that the man was totally involved, but when I told him it was bright starlight and I had ten-magnification glasses on him, he sighed and said, ‘I suppose I should have expected that.' He was buttoning up his jacket. ‘Well, no good trying to alert Capitan Perez now. His boys can hear the shooting just as well as we can here. Let's go up to the bridge.'

Outside the cabin all was bustle as the ship came to readiness, men in various stages of dress hurrying to their posts, the bridge itself beginning to fill up. As soon as we reached it, we could hear the firing out on La Mola, for they had both wing doors open. We went out on to the starb'd wing and stood there looking at the black outline of the peninsula sprawled against the stars. ‘When do you reckon first light, Pilot?'

‘With the sky as clear as this, sir, there should be a glimmer in the east within the hour.'

‘An hour's darkness.' Gareth nodded, then turned to me. ‘Nice timing, the whole thing highly organised.' And he added, That will be Pat. He's had a lot of experience –
Angola chiefly, Mozambique, with the Polisario, and Wade says they thought he had done a spell with the Contras, so he's had the benefit of American as well as South African training.'

Mault appeared at his elbow. ‘I was ordered to report to your cabin, but you weren't there.'

‘No, I'm here.' Gareth's voice was sharp. ‘Have the launch brought alongside and go across to the Base. Try and see Capitan Perez personally. Offer him any assistance he needs. Oh, and tell him the entire force at the disposal of the insurgents at this moment in time is not more than two hundred. They are supported by professional troops landed from two small logistics craft at Addaia. I have an eye-witness of the landing here on board
Medusa
.'

Mault hesitated, glancing at me. ‘Wouldn't it be better if I took Mr Steele with me?'

‘No.' Gareth's voice was even sharper. ‘Tell the
Jefe
he can interview him here on board if he wants to.' And he added, ‘Now hurry, man. Things are happening, and happening fast. Perez needs to know that the whole thing can be controlled and suppressed if he acts quickly enough.' He turned to Davison. ‘Is somebody looking after that inflatable and the man who was with Mr Steele?'

‘Yes, sir. He's been taken to the petty officers' mess for some coffee.'

‘Good.' He turned back into the body of the bridge as the Yeoman of Signals appeared at his side with a piece of paper in his hand. ‘A sit-rep, sir. The Communications Office were alerting the radar unit on top of the Toro rock when the radio contact suddenly went dead, there's a small foreign outfit in Alayor, nobody knows yet what nationality but Arab by the look of them, and there's a ham of sorts broadcasting Independence Day messages from Ciudadela.'

Gareth glanced through the paper, nodded, dealt with the little queue of officers waiting to be briefed, then went over to the nearest mike, his voice stilling all conversation
as it blared out over the ship's main broadcast: ‘
This is the Captain speaking. We have a situation ashore that was not wholly unexpected and is to some extent our reason for being here in Port Mahon
…' And then he was outlining briefly what the firing was all about. He also indicated that there had been outside intervention … ‘
Whether by political sympathisers, mercenaries or some foreign power is not yet clear. I will keep you informed.
' Just as he said that there was a flash, followed immediately by the rumble of a heavy explosion, the rumbling muffled as though it were underground, and suddenly the highest point of La Mola was lit by a pyrotechnic display that was so colourful and went on for so long it was more like fireworks than the destruction of a military target. ‘Looks like they've got the garrison's ammunition dump.' Gareth had a pair of the bridge binoculars fixed on La Mola. Davison said something to him and he lowered the glasses, frowning. ‘Funny! I should have thought he would have been glad of a coffee, even a drink …' He turned to me. ‘That Australian of yours. Seems he was worried about something, so he's pushed off. Said he'd be at the dig when you wanted him. Yes, Yeo?'

The Yeoman of Signals was at his elbow again. ‘Looks as though they've taken the radio station, sir. They're playing local music interspersed with announcements of this sort.' He handed Gareth a slip of paper.

‘Ismail Fuxá –' Gareth was reading it aloud – ‘I imagine you pronounce it Fusha, the X is sh, isn't it? He's described here as leader of the Independent Movement and it says he'll be broadcasting an Independence Day message to the Menorquin people at 06.00. Apparently the speech will be repeated every hour on the hour throughout the rest of the day. What do you think?' He glanced up at me. ‘The speech taped in advance?' And he added, ‘Must have been. Which suggests a degree of organisation …'

The Navigating Officer interrupted him. ‘Message from the Naval Base, sir. No answer from the garrison command
post on La Mola. And the
Jefe
would like a word with you on UHF.'

The ultra high frequency set used by Nato service units was on the far side of the bridge. He picked up the headset with its boom-mike and though I couldn't hear what was said I saw the lines of strain on his face ease. He was talking for barely a minute and then he said, ‘Well, thank God for that. They haven't got the Naval Base.' He said it loud enough for all on the bridge to hear, knowing I suppose that it would spread from there right through the ship.

‘Launch coming back now, sir.'

He nodded, watching it come out from behind Bloody Island, making an arrowed arc as it swung to pass under the bows and come alongside the ladder. To seaward the first glimmer of the dawn was etching black the outline of Lazareto Island with the bulk of La Mola reared up behind it.

Mault, when he reached the bridge, reported that he had been received very formally. He had the impression that his visit was not welcomed and that the Spanish Navy
Jefe
was wanting to distance himself from the British naval presence in the harbour.

‘You saw Perez himself, did you?' Gareth asked him.

‘In the end, yes.'

‘Would you say his coolness was dictated by higher authority?'

‘Yes. He asked me to thank you for your offer of assistance, but to tell you it would not be necessary.'

‘He's in touch with Madrid then?'

Mault nodded, i think so. But locally I had the feeling he was cut off. I was with him when the explosion occurred on La Mola. That was when he told me his Communications people could no longer talk to the garrison there. He seemed very dejected. In the circumstances the sensible thing would seem to be for us to withdraw to Gibraltar.'

Gareth looked at him, gave a short bark of a laugh and said, ‘The sensible thing!' His voice was full of irony. ‘Oh
yes, Lieutenant Commander – that would undoubtedly be the sensible thing. Unfortunately, our orders are quite the opposite. We stay here.' And he turned on his heel, striding quickly up and down the bridge several times, his face tight-drawn, an expression almost of anguish on his face. He seemed to be struggling to make up his mind about something. Finally, he turned to me. ‘Wait for me in my cabin.' He was moving towards the door and when I started to say something about it being time I was off his ship he turned on me angrily, ‘Just do as I tell you. Wait in my cabin. I may need you if I manage to contact any of Soo's friends.'

He went below then and shortly afterwards the Navigator advised me to do as he said. His hand was on my arm, steering me to the door. On the stairs outside he suddenly stopped. ‘He needs you, sir. You know the island and the people here, and you're not a part of the ship. That's important.' And he added, speaking quite urgently now, ‘There's one or two of the officers here trying to dismiss him as a jumped-up little Welshman from the lower deck promoted too quickly and not big enough for the job. They don't know what the job is, of course, and nor do I, but I can tell you this – he's carrying a burden hardly anybody on board yet realises, a burden I can only guess at from hints dropped by Phil Woburn, our Communications Officer. I admire him.' He gave a quick embarrassed grin. ‘So do as he says, will you? He needs you.'

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to keep the man away from my wife. But instead I nodded and went down to his cabin, wondering again why he had been given this particular command and what the hell the ship was supposed to do here.

I was there on my own for a good half-hour and for most of that time I was standing by the porthole which looked out past Bloody Island to the port and the Naval Base. Once one of the naval patrol boats put out heading for
Cala Figuera, but a few minutes after disappearing behind Bloody Island it emerged again and returned to base. Otherwise, there was virtually nothing moving in that section of the harbour and the waterfront was too far away for me to identify the few vehicles that were on the road.

To pass the time I had a look at the books on the shelf above the desk. They were most of them reference books, including the Admiralty Pilot for the Mediterranean Volumes I and II, also, surprisingly, Kemp's encyclopaedic work,
Ships and the Sea,
and beside that was Conrad's
The Secret Agent
and a rather battered copy of a collection of Kipling's verse. Opening it at a marker, I found he had underlined a passage from ‘How Fear Came' – ‘
When ye fight with a Wolf of the Pack, ye must fight him alone and afar, Lest others take part in the quarrel, and the Pack be diminished by war
.' And earlier there was a ticket to the Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, marking ‘The English Flag'. ‘
And what should they know of England who only England know
.' I felt the wrench of that second line, thinking of spring and blossom, chestnuts bursting. Then Petty Officer Jarvis came in to say he would be serving breakfast as soon as the Captain arrived, meanwhile could he offer me a cup of coffee? By then it was 06.09 and I wondered what Ismail Fuxá had said in his Independence Day message.

Gareth had listened to it on the radio, of course. But when he came in some ten minutes later he couldn't tell me what the man had said, apart from the fact that it was a declaration of the island's independence, but he seemed to have got a very vivid impression of Fuxá himself. ‘A little like listening to a re-run of the German Führer speaking at one of the big Nazi rallies in the thirties – very emotional, the voice rising in pitch to the point of screaming, then suddenly falling away so that it seemed to be whispering in one's ear.' He slumped down on the settle, passing a hand over his eyes as though to rub out the weariness that showed there. ‘Quite an exercise. Very
compelling, almost hypnotic. I think we're in trouble.' He said it so softly I could hardly catch the words. ‘They seem to have taken all the key points except the Naval Base, which suggests there were sympathisers among some of the military.'