Colin Forbes - The Heights of Zervos

'You must cut the ropes on your feet yourself…' The voice of the unknown man spoke quickly again. There's a coat and cap on the floor

… you turn left when you leave the cabin… hurry!'

The knife had already been placed on Prentice's leg and he was working on the ropes round his ankles when light flooded briefly into the cabin and then the door closed again. Prentice looked up quickly but he was too late – he saw no more than the departure of a shadow as the intruder disappeared. While he was sawing at the ropes the ship began to roll more violently, the angle of the cabin's tilt increasing steadily. They were moving into dirty weather. Behind him he heard a creak inside Ford's bunk and the sergeant's voice was a careful whisper. 'Who the devil was that?'

'God knows, but the Scots accent was unmistakable. He must be a stowaway.' Prentice was free now and he nearly stumbled full length as the vessel rose abruptly while he was feeling his way across the darkened cabin. He'd have to risk a light – there had been a fierce urgency in the intruder's final words and in less than fifteen minutes the sentry would be back. And this time he would come inside their cabin. Switching on the light, he noted that the door was firmly closed, then ran across to Ford's bunk. He used his knife to cut the ropes as he talked. 'We've got to get on that raft and away from this ship pdq. Then we can loose off a signal to that destroyer…' Ford was rubbing the circulation back into his wrists when Prentice tried on the coat which, had been dropped on the floor. An Alpenkorps greatcoat, it was a little too long and fitted loosely across the shoulders, but he thought it might serve. The soft, large-peaked cap was also ill-fitting but he settled it on his head as the sergeant looked at him.

'You're the spitting image of a Jerry,' Ford informed him. 'And your face fits, too.'

"Thanks very much…' Prentice was moving towards the door, the knife concealed inside his pocket. 'I'll walk on the left – you keep to my right. That way I'll try and cover you if any cabin doors are open.' Switching off the light, he paused while he listened with his ear pressed to the inner side of the door. He thought he understood now the restless wakefulness of those murmuring voices he had heard earlier – if the Alpenkorps men below decks knew of the destroyer's presence that would be more than enough to spoil their beauty sleep. It also meant that they were likely to be alert, which would make their walk along that companionway a hundred times more dangerous. He whispered to Ford quickly. 'Here we go. If anyone calls out to us we just keep moving as though we haven't heard. Now!' Opening the door quietly, he peered out.

The passage was deserted in both directions. He walked straight out, closed the door behind them, and began walking down the companionway with Ford at his side.

The first cabin door was half-open and before he had reached it he heard voices speaking in German. He walked at a steady pace, not too quickly, not too slowly, staring ahead as they drew level with the doorway. Out of the corner of his eye he had a glimpse of a smoke-filled cabin, a blur of uniformed bodies, and then they had passed it. Maintaining the same pace, Prentice kept his eyes fixed on the distant staircase where a pile of army packs lay huddled near the lowest tread. The next cabin door was also open, wide open. Smoke drifted into the companionway as the vessel heeled violently and Ford had to grab at the rail to save his balance. Prentice briefly slowed his pace while the sergeant caught up. That had been lucky – if it had happened opposite the open cabin door, Ford, dressed in British civilian clothes, would have been completely exposed to view. Prentice's mind was coldly alert as they came close to the doorway. From inside he could hear more animation, the sound of raucous laughter as a voice ended in a shout. Someone telling a story, he guessed. One Alpenkorps soldier, his fair hair cut to a stubble, lounged inside with his shoulder resting on the door frame and his back turned towards the companionway. Prentice kept walking forward and as he began to walk past the doorway another burst of laughter echoed inside the cabin. An NCO stood in the middle of the room, half-turned away from the doorway, waving his hands as he pantomimed something. An energetic attempt to keep up morale, Prentice was thinking, something to take the minds of the men off that destroyer outside in the night. But he thought the laughter was a little forced and short-lived. The main thing was it concentrated attention inside the cabin as they walked past it. Only one more cabin to pass, and the door was closed.

Then they were walking past the door and within a few paces of the staircase. At the foot of the steps Ford glanced down, saw inside a German army pack which had its flap drawn back. With his interest in explosives he paused involuntarily as he saw the demolition charge and the timing mechanisms. By his side Prentice sensed the pause and grasped his arm, urging him upwards without a word. The lieutenant was mounting the steps when the bows of the Hydra plunged downwards, elevating the staircase in his face so suddenly that he nearly fell over backwards, tightening his grip on the rail just in time. Half-way up, he locked quickly back along the companionway as he continued climbing. It was still deserted.

When he pushed open the door at the top it was almost torn from his grasp by the force of the wind. He waited until Ford was safely on deck, then used both hands to close it without a slamming noise. With the howl of the wind and the heavy slap of heaving water it seemed a needless precaution, but the thud of a door dosing is a special sound and that guard might be somewhere on deck. The water-washed deck gleamed in the moonlight and beyond the funnel to port a burst of spray exploded near the rail. With Ford motionless at his side Prentice scanned the deck which seemed to be deserted. A moment later a gust of wind whipped the ill-fitting Alpenkorps cap from his head and blew it into the sea. He had lost the most distinctive part of his disguise. He looked to starboard and was staggered to see how close the destroyer was steaming, frowning when he saw the signal lamp flashing. Was she calling on the Hydra to heave-to? With a very slight turn of his head he looked towards the stern and saw the raft waiting for them, its canvas cover drawn back, and by the light of the moon he could see the rescue loops hanging from its sides and bobbing with the Hydra 's motion.

The raft had been covered with the canvas when he had last seen it and he hadn't recognized what the cover concealed. If it really carried distress lights they might just make it, might attract the destroyer's attention and be picked up. Not that he was too enthusiastic about the prospect of being aboard that tiny craft in seas like these. The whole surface of the Aegean was heaving up in a series of mountainous crests which raced towards the ferry with an insidious gliding movement as though intent on overwhelming it. He was about to make his way towards the raft, waiting for a moment when the ferry was pulling itself out of one of the great rolling dips, when he caught a brief twitch of a shadow to starboard beyond the funnel. The shadow of a huge man wearing a soft hat and standing close to a swaying lifeboat. Putting a warning hand on Ford's sleeve, Prentice kept perfectly still. It was the big German who had come aboard as a passenger at Istanbul. From the way he was standing he appeared to be talking to someone who was out of sight under the wall of the bridge. Go away, Prentice prayed. Get lost! The German began to move, to turn in his direction.

'Italian mines have been sown in the Gulf of Zervos.' This latest signal from the destroyer should have reassured Burckhardt but it sent a chill through him.