Джон Болл - The First Team

Presently he became embarrassingly aware of the girl beside him. He had often thought how rewarding it would be to be in bed with Barbara, but it had not been a casual thing with him. Now, out of necessity, Barbara was beside him: warm, close, and naked as a girl in bed should always be. His nerves were still far from composed, but with the first respite from the raid that had just taken place, he could no longer ignore the circumstances.

His thoughts were interrupted by more noise from downstairs and the sound of angry voices. He recognized Davy’s baritone in the jumble of heated talk. There were additional sounds from outside and then at last the coming of a blessed quiet. Five full, tension-locked minutes passed, then there was a soft tap on the door. “Yes?” Hewlitt responded.

The door opened just enough to allow Davy to slide in. “Our guests have gone,” he said. “Sorry if you were inconvenienced.”

“Say that you were and I’ll bite your ear off,” Barbara whispered. Davy heard her, but he made no comment. “We were warned just in time,” he said. “They didn’t find anything. Hew, I’ll get your clothes back to you as soon as I can.”

“No rush,” Barbara said. “He isn’t going anywhere.”

Hewlitt heard her, but his mind was preoccupied. “How about it?” he asked. “Has this house had it? They know where we are now.”

“They’ve known all the time,” Davy answered. “We wanted them to. Tonight they came for a look and found just what they were expecting. There’s a lot of stuff hidden here, but they didn’t come close to any of it.”

“How about Percival?”

“He’s all right, he left some time ago. Now get some sleep if you can.” He went out and closed the door behind him.

When they were alone once more, Hewlitt discovered that Barbara was shaking a very little as she lay beside him. For a moment he wondered if it was because of him, then he felt her arm tighten around him. “I was scared,” she confessed in a whisper.

“So was I,” Hewlitt said softly. “I still am a little.”

It was awkwardly silent then; he felt that he should say something, but he was not sure what. “This may not be just the time and place to mention it,” he managed, “but, well, corny as it may sound, I am falling in love with you.”

She tilted her head up toward him and there was a slight movement of her body against his own. “Thank you. When you’re in bed with a naked lady, it’s quite appropriate to tell her that you find her nice.”

She turned sideways until she was facing him, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest. Although the only light was what came in from the streets, he could see her very clearly. Her hair was billowed about her face; at that particular moment her normal attractiveness was enormously amplified as though some undiscovered alchemy had transformed her into the most beautiful and desirable woman who had ever been born.

He banished from his mind the thoughts that had been shuttle-cocking back and forth about the raid, the inspection of her body that he had witnessed, and the almost violently abrupt manner in which they had been thrown together.

He kissed her, reasonably gently at first, but when he knew that she was fully and freely, even joyfully responsive, he let himself give way to a mounting passion. She was a woman who knew how to give of herself, and to receive back all that she gave — and more. He was immensely grateful, because this was the way he wanted it to be — the way he had dreamed it would be.

He ran his hand down the smooth subtle curvature of her back, his fingertips relaying the magic feel of her skin. She made a very small noise and his blood pounded harder because of it. He held his hand against the soft contour of her buttocks and then pressed her hard to him in the beginning moments of realization.

More than one thousand miles northwest of San Francisco, four hundred and twenty-five feet below the surface of the Pacific Ocean, the captain of the U.S.S. Ramon Magsaysay sat in his small office, in full command of his ship, his crew, and himself. Seated before him was one of the two enemy representatives who were on board his command, the one who had literally jumped for his life at the last minute when the submarine had been slipping her moorings at Hunters Point. Standing in the doorway, by invitation, was the commander of the shipyard whose overseer the uninvited guest had been.

“What is your name?” the captain asked.

The man responded with a cascade of syllables that was all but incomprehensible. It appeared to start out with Klem, but that was all that could be understood.

“All right,” the captain said. “I can’t pronounce that and I’m sure my men can’t either. We’ll call you Clem. Why did you come on board?”

“Because it was not my wish to die. While I watch I see nothing, but you do everything. For this I am shooted immediate fast. This is undesirable, so when I understand, I jump.”

“I see. Suppose we had been stopped by your people before we got away?”

“Then I say I jump to prevent you.”

The captain looked at the commander. “He’s candid, anyway.”

“I can’t honestly blame him too much,” the shipyard man said. “In his position I think that I would have done the same thing. He didn’t have much choice.”

“Nor do we. All right, Clem, I will grant you political asylum on board this ship for the time being. We can’t give you anything to eat, you understand that. Every man in this crew was forewarned that there would be no way to get any supplies on board and that we would all have to go without rations for at least three days.” “That fool everyone,” the ex-overseer volunteered. “Nothing to eat, cannot go.”

“Well, we did manage to smuggle some packets of soup mix on board under some of the decontamination suits, but that’s all we’ve got. No coffee, just drinking water that we make.”

“Thank you for my life. I am glad I am live to feel that pain of hunger. I am patient.”

“That’s fine, Clem. Understand that if you make the slightest attempt to interfere with the operation of this ship, you will be treated at once as an enemy spy.” He looked up at the shipyard commander. “Suppose you take over responsibility for the POW’s,” he said. “I’m badly understaffed as it is, and I don’t have any men to spare.”

“I’d be glad to.”

“Good. We’ll cover for you while you’re in the sack. Ask Mr. Wagner to come in, will you?”

Even in a poopie suit Walter Wagner could not conceal his remarkable physical development. The captain invited him in and gestured toward a chair. “One of the privileges of being in command,” he said, “is that I was on the bridge and saw you come off that crane. How high were you when you dove?”

“About a hundred and four feet,” Wagner answered. “It looks spectacular, but it isn’t difficult when you’re used to it.”

“It would scare me witless.”

“The only thing that disturbs me is that I had to blow my cover. Now everyone in the business knows that this country has an agent who is a high diver. Up until now I could go almost anywhere as a circus or carnival performer and no one ever questioned it.”

“I don’t know what the future holds,” the captain said, “but if this cruise is successful, you might be able to retire and do whatever you’d like.”

Wagner shook his head slowly. “I’d like to believe that, but just about the time that things quiet down all around something pops up somewhere. It always has.”

The captain npdded unhappily. “I wish you weren’t right, but I know that you are. Essentially we’re in the same business. Anyhow, we’re all naturally very proud that we have a First Team member on board. I’d like to pass the word on that if you don’t mind.”