Алистер Маклин - Seawitch

Within ten minutes the helicopter was on its way back to the mainland. Five minutes after that the Georgia ’s own helicopter had returned and all the helipad lights were switched off.

It was due only to the most cruel ill-luck and the extremely jittery state of Durand’s nerves that John Roomer and Melinda Worth found themselves the first patients in Dr Greenshaw’s sick-bay.

Durand was in a highly apprehensive state of mind, a mood that transferred itself all too easily to his four subordinates. Although he held control of the Seawitch he was acutely aware that his hold was a tenuous one: he had not bargained on finding Palermo and his cut-throats on board, and even though he held the master keys to both the Occidental and Oriental quarters in his pocket – the drilling crew was in the former quarters, Palermo and his men in the latter – he was well aware that there were far too many windows in both quarters and he didn’t have the men to cover every possible exit. He had broadcast a message over the external loud-hailer that anyone found on the platform would be shot on sight, and had two men on constant patrol round the Oriental quarters – he had no fear of the unarmed drilling rig crew – and another two constantly patrolling the platform. He had no fear of Lord Worth, his seismologists and the girls – as sources of danger he held them in contempt. Besides, they were unarmed. Even so, the two men patrolling the platform had been instructed to do so in such a fashion as to make sure that at least one had an eye on the doors to the suite of Lord Worth, the laboratory and the sick-bay, all three of which had inter-communicating doors.

Tragically, no one inside those three places had heard the warning broadcast – and this, ironically, because Lord Worth was not above indulging in what he regarded as the bare minimum of basic creature comforts. Oil rigs can be uncommonly noisy places and those quarters he had heavily insulated.

Mitchell had been in his tiny cubicle off the laboratory at the time, reading the plan of the layout of the Seawitch over and over again until he was certain that he could have found his way around the Seawitch blindfold. This had taken him about twenty minutes. It was in the fifth minute of his studying that the shots had been fired but again, because of the soundproofing, the firing had not reached him. He had just put the plans away in a drawer when his door opened and Marina entered. She was white-faced and shaking and her face was streaked with tears. As soon as she reached him he put his arms round her and she grabbed him as if he were the last straw in the middle of the Pacific.

‘Why weren’t you there?’ she sobbed. ‘Why weren’t you there? You could have stopped them. You could have saved them!’

Mitchell took no time out to dwell upon the injustices of life. He said gently: ‘Stopped what? Saved whom?’

‘Melinda and John. They’ve been terribly hurt.’

‘How?’

‘Shot.’

‘Shot? I heard nothing.’

‘Of course you heard nothing. This area is all soundproofed. That’s why Melinda and John didn’t hear the broadcast warning.’

‘Broadcast warning? Tell it to me slowly.’

So she told him as slowly and coherently as she could. There had been such a warning but it had gone unheard in Lord Worth’s suite. The rain had stopped, at least temporarily, and when Mitchell had retired to study the plans Melinda and Roomer had elected to go for a stroll. They had been wandering around the foot of the drilling rig, where most of the lights had been turned off since Durand had ordered the abandonment of drilling, and it was there that they had been gunned down without warning.

‘ “Terribly hurt”, you said. How badly hurt?’

‘I’m not sure. Dr Greenshaw is operating in the sick-bay. I’m not a coward, you know that, but there was so much blood that I didn’t want to look.’

Arrived in the sick-bay, Mitchell could hardly blame her. Melinda and Roomer lay in adjacent cots and both were saturated with blood. Melinda already had her left shoulder heavily bandaged. Roomer had bandages swathed round his neck and Dr Greenshaw was working on his chest.

Lord Worth, his face a mask of bitter fury, was sitting in a chair. Durand, his face a mask of nothingness, was standing by the doorway. Mitchell looked speculatively at both, then spoke to Dr Greenshaw. ‘What have you been able to determine so far, Doctor?’

‘Would you listen to him?’ Roomer’s voice was a hoarse whisper and his face creased with near-agony. ‘Never think of asking us how we feel.’

‘In a moment. Well, Doctor?’

‘Lady Melinda’s left shoulder-blade is in a pretty bad way. I’ve extracted the bullet, but she needs immediate surgery. I’m a surgeon, but I’m not an orthopaedic surgeon, and that’s what she must have. Roomer hasn’t been quite so lucky. He got hit twice. The one through the neck missed his carotid artery by a whisker, but the bullet passed straight through and there’s no worry there. The chest wound is serious. Not fatal but very serious. The bullet struck the left lung, no doubt about that, but the internal bleeding isn’t that much, so I think it’s a nick, no more. The trouble is, I think the bullet is lodged against the spine.’

‘He can wiggle his toes?’

Roomer moaned. ‘My God, what sympathy.’

‘He can. But the bullet should be removed as soon as possible. I could do it but I have no X-ray equipment here. I’ll give them blood transfusions in a moment.’

‘Shouldn’t they be flown to hospital as soon as possible?’

‘Of course.’

Mitchell looked at Durand. ‘Well?’

‘No.’

‘But it wasn’t their fault. They didn’t hear the warning.’

‘Their bad luck. There’s no way I’ll fly them ashore. Think I want a battalion of US Marines out here in a few hours?’

‘If they die it’ll be your fault.’

‘Everybody’s got to die sometime.’ Durand left, slamming the door behind him.

‘Dear, dear.’ Roomer tried to shake his head then winced at the pain in his neck. ‘He shouldn’t have said that.’

Mitchell turned to Lord Worth. ‘You can be of great help, sir. Your suite is in direct contact with the radio room, of course. Can you actually hear what is being said in the radio room?’

‘No bother. Two switches and I can hear both sides of any conversation, either on the telephone, earphones or wall-receivers.’

‘Please go and do so and don’t stop listening for a second.’ He looked at the two patients on the cots. ‘We’ll have them airborne for hospital within the half-hour.’

‘How can that be possible?’

‘I don’t know.’ Mitchell sounded vague. ‘I dare say we’ll think of something.’

Lord Worth left. Mitchell pulled out a slender pencil flashlight and started to flick it on and off in apparent aimlessness. His complexion had gone pale and the hands that held the pencil light trembled slightly. Marina looked at him first uncomprehendingly, then in dismay, finally in something approaching contempt. Incredulously, she said: ‘You’re frightened.’

‘Your gun?’ Mitchell said to Roomer.

‘When they went off for help I managed to drag myself a bit nearer the edge. I unclipped the belt and threw the lot over the side.’

‘Good lad. So we’re still in the clear.’ He seemed to become aware of the tremor in his hands, put away his flashlight and thrust his hands into his pockets. He said to Melinda: ‘Who shot you?’

‘A pair of very unpleasant characters called Kowenski and Rindler. We’ve had trouble with them before.’

‘Kowenski and Rindler,’ Mitchell repeated. He left the sick-bay.