Гарри Гаррисон - The QE2 Is Missing

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“What could have happened to her?” The search pilot asked, as he had been asking for days now.
“Someone said maybe a sudden tidal wave,” the copilot offered.
“Nothing like that has been reported. No tidal waves, no collisions. Just nothing, that’s the damnable part of it!”
“Bermuda Triangle?” the copilot asked. The pilot just sniffed loudly. “I know. Just a lot of nonsense. But nevertheless, Lieutenant, she appears to have vanished…. “

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“Mrs. Greenstein, Mr. Greenstein — what a pleasure to see you. What courage on a night like this! If you please.”

He escorted them to their table with a flourish. No mention was made of slacks and sports jackets instead of evening wear. It was enough that they had put in an appearance. Two waiters held their chairs for them, while the sommelier grinned expectantly in the background. He came forward even as they were putting their serviettes on their laps.

“Madame, Monsieur, good evening. Courtesy of the Captain, all brave souls who appear for dinner tonight a bottle of wine.” He bent close, conspiratorialy. “Since the Captain is so busy a man, affairs of the ship and the weather, he neglected to say what kind of wine. Might I suggest the Chateau Margaux ‘69, the best vintage in twenty years. Just now coming into its own. Incredible! I will not show you the wine card in case, by chance, your eyes might stray to the right hand column and you discover what a loss Cunard is making on this generous gesture.”

“Sounds like a winner,” Hank said. “What about it, Frances?”

“Well… only if there isn’t any Spanish rioja.”

The sommelier’s eyes bulged and he gasped — and finally laughed. “ A joke, of course! Madame is so wonderful, in weather like this jokes too!”

He started away, grabbing a chair back for support, to be replaced by the headwaiter. “Tonight, I am sorry, but for physical reasons the menu is limited. But the chef has prepared for the first course ecrevisse in a special sauce. You are interested?”

“We are,” Frances said, liberally spreading butter on a half roll. “Or at least I am.”

“Sure, I’ll go along with that.”

“With your wine a Beef Wellington done to perfection, perfect with this wine.”

“We are as putty in your hands.”

The headwaiter hurried away and was instantly replaced by the wine waiter, who presented a dusty bottle with all the exuberance of a mother with her first born.

“Admire the color! Prepare yourself for the bouquet. I shall open it instantly to breathe and perhaps, with your fish a pretentious little moselle, just at this moment reaching the chill of perfection.”

“Sure. As long as it’s pretentious.” Hank shook his head in wonder as he left. “The service this evening is something else again.”

“More of a tribute to the stoutness of our stomachs than our character, my love.”

They enjoyed the attention and their meal. The wine was superb, as was the food. Hank wanted to finish with some Stilton but the headwaiter was so enthusiastic about the crepes suzette that they gave in. With much stirring over the flame, pouring of brandy from on high, then a final burst of fire for the flambe, the preparation of the dish was quite spectacular. Later, feeling the tightness of his belt and sipping at his five star Armagnac, Hank was very much at peace with the world. Until he happened to glance at his watch. A quarter to nine.

“Your face fell as though you had seen a ghost,” Frances said.

“I didn’t mean to do that. But dinner has been so good and everything that I just forgot about our visitors in the cabin. I must be there in a few minutes.”

“And you have nothing more to tell me about them?”

“Not yet, that is what they are discussing now. I think I know what they plan to do, but if I said it aloud I wouldn’t believe it myself. What are you going to do?”

“Not come back to my own cabin, obviously. I think I’ll do the Casino and lose some money at blackjack.”

“An hour, no more,” Hank said, suddenly making his mind up. “I’m tossing them all out by ten at the latest. Enough is enough.”

“I hope you can. But I’ll phone first in any case. Please take care of yourself.”

“Never fear.” He bent and kissed her warmly, then left. Feeling like four kinds of heel, yet not knowing why he felt that way.

When he entered the suite he was surprised to find that only Uzi was there, sipping a cup of cold coffee. All of the ash trays were full and the remains of the sandwich meal littered the room. But the others were gone.

“I can’t bear the loneliness,” Hank said. “What happened?”

“We’ve firmed up the plans. Sit and I’ll tell you about them.”

“They’re taking over the ship?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me pour a strong drink before you continue.”

Hank took a deep swallow of the bourbon and water and dropped into the deep armchair. “When is it going to happen?” he asked.

“Midnight tonight. In a few hours. The ship will be quiet then and there will be two hours to secure things before the next watch comes on. As soon as they have control a message will be sent to the fishing boat for a rendezvous. They should be no more than eight hours away, maybe less. So they will have the night to burn into the safe and get the diamonds. By breakfast time the boat should be close by. Then they will take the prisoners, one group at a time, in the guise of the breakfast waiters.

“I suppose it can work.”

Uzi snorted and climbed to his feet, going to the bar himself. Hank had never seen him take a drink before. He sloshed a large measure of cognac into a glass and brought it back with him.

“It’s dangerous, almost suicidal. A dozen men to take over and control a ship this size? There are over twenty-six hundred people aboard, passengers and crew. Only one of them has to get wind of what is happening and spread the alarm — just one. Maybe a dozen men can capture the control centers of this ship — but can they hold them?”

“You tell me. Can they do it?”

Uzi thought for a moment — then grinned. “Well, they can certainly try. I remember when the British pulled out and there we were in Israel with invading Arabs coming in from all sides. It was close run, but we won.”

“If it happened once it can happen again. Will you be in on the action?”

“Please don’t ask. What you do not know can never be used as evidence; as a lawyer you can appreciate that.”

“Yes, I do. Thank you. Is there anything you want me to do?”

“Yes. Give me your key, find your wife and retire. If there are people coming and going out here do not take notice of it. If the phone rings let someone else answer it. Get a good night’s sleep.”

Hank laughed. “Indeed! I don’t know how easy that will be to do with piracy going on all round me.”

“That’s a bad word to use.”

“It’s the right word. Because that’s what these people are going to do. All right, it’s in a good cause, but it is still piracy.”

Uzi nodded soberly. “I agree and I wish it were possible some other way. There could be terrible repercussions. I have taken what precautions I can. I am travelling under a Paraguayan passport, a very good real one. So if things go wrong they will take me for just another one of the resistance people.”

“They can make you talk, though.”

“Very hard to talk if you are dead. If this goes wrong that is the only way I can protect our people.”

Hank drank in silence, not knowing what to say, knowing at the same time the Israeli was not being dramatic. Just telling the truth. What had started as an attempt to apprehend some Nazi war criminals had snowballed into a major crime that they were both inextricably involved with.

“Give them credit for nerve,” Uzi said. “Taking over the QE2 is an ambition that few men would consider.”

“Do we drink to their success?”

“I’m not sure. Better drink to the capture and trial of Dr. Wielgus and his associates.”

“Absolutely!” They drained their glasses and Hank stood and passed his room key over. “I’m going to play a little blackjack and retire. “It’s been a long day. I’m looking forward to the ship’s newspaper on my breakfast tray.”

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