Eric Ambler: The Levanter

“I did, and I am sure he is, in port. However, he must be under some strain at present and perhaps overexcited. Has he been in action as a front-fighter before, Comrade Salah?”

“No, but all he has to do is steer to the right place. He does not have to fire a shot himself.”

“He has the responsibility and is already in a position of danger. Perhaps he knows it.”

“What danger?”

“Captain Touzani sighted the Jeble 5 at sundown. She was running without lights, and on a collision course with this ship. What looks easy on the chart isn’t always so easy when one is at sea and in darkness. Even the most competent officers can become confused.”

“Hadaya can see our lights, and he says that we are out of position.”

In Latalda, Touzani had asked if there would be a seaman among the passengers on board and I had told him there would not be. But Hadaya was a seaman and with that damned walkie-talkie he was as good as on board. What was more, his voice was rapidly becoming clearer with less fading. All I could do now was try to bluff, confuse, and play for time.

“Please ask him what course we are steering, Comrade Salah.”

Ghaled pressed the transmit button and repeated the question.

A moment late the reply came back. “ Amalia’s course and ours is now one-nine-two, but…”

I tried to drown the rest. “Comrade Salah, that is the course called for in your instructions.”

“Let him finish.” To Hadaya he said: “Repeat that.”

“We are on the right course but too far west.”

“How can that be?”

“After the turn to starboard Amalia delayed too long before correcting. By my dead reckoning we are at least two miles west of where we should be.”

“That is impossible,” I protested. “Captain Touzani is a skilled navigator with modern instruments at his disposal. Hadaya must be mistaken.”

Ghaled pressed the button. “Comrade Michael says that you’re mistaken. What do you say?”

“In a few minutes I should be able to take bearings on the Hadera and Tel Aviv lights marked on the chart. We will know then who is mistaken.”

“How many minutes?”

“I could send a man to a masthead now, but I would sooner take the bearings myself. Give me five minutes, please, Comrade Salah.”

“Very well.”

Ghaled looked at his watch and then broodingly at me.

“I want to speak to this Tunisian of yours.”

“On the bridge, Comrade Salah?”

“No, here. Send for him.”

I rang the bell for Kyprianou. When he appeared I said: “A message for the Captain. My compliments and would he please come down to the saloon.” I was speaking in Greek and I added: “Tell the Captain that this is a request that he should ignore and that the whole crew should be warned to expect trouble.”

He gave me a startled look and hurried out.

Ghaled turned to Aziz. “If this Tunisian has not carried out Comrade Michael’s orders, we must see that he obeys ours. Arm yourselves.”

“Yes, Comrade Salah.”

They went aft along the alleyway.

It was a bad moment for me. The people on the bridge were armed and the rest of the crew would be alerted. Ghaled was also armed, true, but the odds, I thought, were in the ship’s favour. They were not, however, in mine. So far Ghaled had appeared to trust me. We had had our cosy little drinking session in his cabin. Not even Hadaya’s awkward revelations had seemed to cast doubts on my good faith. If the ship wasn’t where she should be it was “the Tunisian” who was to blame, not Comrade Michael But at any moment now that was all likely to change. Ghaled might be ignorant on the subject of navigation, but he would know what a locked door meant. It meant that the Tunisian was being deliberately obstructive and committing hostile acts. And who was he taking his orders from? Me.

I started to talk my way out of the danger zone. “If the ship is a little out of position, Comrade Salah, that is not really very serious. The mistake can easily be rectified. Even at six knots we can make a two mile change of position well before zero hour. Hadaya is overanxious, that is all. Perhaps I am, too, now that we are really going into action. I am certainly getting forgetful I meant to bring the second bottle of brandy with me when I came down. If you will excuse me a moment, I will go back and get it.”

He glanced at his watch again. I think that he was going to let me go for the brandy, but just then Captain Touzani came into the saloon.

I know now why he came. In spite of my suggestion that he stay put, he was afraid that the message about alerting the crew meant that I was in trouble over the special compartment door. He came to help me out Very generous after the way I had treated him, but it really would have been better if he had stayed on the bridge.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Howell?” he asked.

I had no chance to reply.

“ I want to see you,” snapped Ghaled.

As he said it there was a pounding of feet in the alleyway and Aziz burst in.

“Comrade Salah! We cannot arm ourselves. We are locked out of our room.” Then he saw the captain and pointed an accusing finger. “He has locked the room against us!”

Touzani smiled. “Nonsense, Mr. Faysal. That compartment is normally kept locked. I expect that the boatswain locked it without thinking when he was on his rounds. I’ll give orders to have it opened.”

“At once, please, Captain,” said Ghaled, and I saw him as he said it release the flap of his pistol holster.

“By all means, Mr. Yassin.”

Touzani had started to turn away when Hadaya’s voice suddenly came through loud and shrill over the walkie-talkie.

“Comrade Salah! Comrade Salah!”

Ghaled reached for the transmit button.

“Yes?”

“Comrade Salah, I have taken bearings on the Hadera and Tel Aviv lights. We are three miles out of position, over ten miles offshore. Ten miles! On our present course we will be completely out of range.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certain. We must immediately turn to port and steer one-six-oh. Immediately, Comrade Salah!”

Ghaled stared at Touzani. “You hear that?”

Touzani stared back mulishly. “I hear a voice, Mr. Yassin. I do not know whose voice, but he is talking rubbish. Do you think I don’t know my own position?”

“I think you know your position very well. That is why you are going to obey my orders from now on.”

Hadaya’s voice came bleating in again. “Steer one-six-oh, Comrade Salah. Immediately.”

“And that’s my first order,” continued Ghaled. “You hear? Then obey.”

“I’m not running my ship aground to please you, Mr. Yassin.”

“She is no longer your ship. I have taken command. You hear?”

“I hear,” said Captain Touzani, and went for his revolver.

It was in his trouser pocket and the hammer caught in the lining. He was still trying to free it when Ghaled shot him.

The heavy bullet knocked him backward against a chair. The chair went over and he with it, sprawling on the linoleum.

Ghaled shoved the automatic into Aziz’s hand. “Up to the bridge,” he snapped. “Take charge at once. Order the new course.” He turned to me. “You go with them. Make sure the order is obeyed properly. Look at the compass yourself. Course one-six-oh. Move now!”

He went quickly along the alleyway to his cabin.

Aziz and the other two were already out on the deck and making for the bridge companionway, Aziz in the lead with the automatic. As he started up the companionway there was a sharp crack and I saw him swing around, clutching at the rail.

It was Patsalides firing down from the bridge. He had heard the shot in the saloon and was taking no chances. If the front-fighters had had their machine pistols it might have been a different story, but now they had to take cover by the companionway while the wounded Aziz sniped up at the bridge with the automatic.