Гарри Гаррисон - The QE2 Is Missing

“That is just the news I have been waiting to hear,” Josep said, taking a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handing it to the hotel manager. Josep was proud of it; he had originated the idea and explained it to Hank Greenstein who had written it up in the form of a command. The hotel manager read it with growing alarm and he was trembling with despair when he had finished it.

“I can’t possibly read this out, no! I refuse. You cannot make me….” He quailed back as Josep pumped the slide on the sub-machine gun and a bullet was ejected onto the floor. He picked it up and held it before the hotel manager’s face. A shiny brass case with a dull, grease-coated, leaden bullet at its tip.

“Look at that,” Josep said. “See that slug? It tears through flesh and through bone and makes a big exit hole when it goes out because it has a hollow nose. Now if I put this gun to your eye — like this — and pulled the trigger, you would be dead before you heard the shot. A brave man might make the sacrifice. But____”

He pulled the gun muzzle away from the man’s horrified face and used the toe of his boot to roll over the Captain’s unconscious body. Then placed the gun against his head.

“I’m not going to shoot you if you refuse,” he said. “I’m going to kill the Captain instead. Then bring his officers in here and shoot them, one by one, until you agree to make the broadcast. So, how many men must die to convince you that you must do it? You will agree in the end. But how many deaths do you wish to have on your conscience first?”

The hotel manager drew himself up, trying to decide, weighing one evil against another. Diaz’s low voice cut through the silence.

“Don’t be a fool. He means to do it. He has done it before, right on this ship. Do you want to see the bodies to prove it? Captain David Rapley will be dead meat in ten seconds if you don’t do as you have been told.”

On the deck, the Captain rolled his head from side to side and, still unconscious, moaned in pain.

“Yes… I’ll do it,” the hotel manager said in a hollow voice. He raised the sheet of paper and Josep reached out and turned the microphone on.

“This is Captain Rapley speaking. It has been reported to me that all passengers are now at their boat stations. However, the crew are still fighting the fire which has been contained, but is still smouldering and giving off dangerous fumes. Therefore, I have decided to remove all passengers from any chance of danger from smoke inhalation. You will notice that we are near Clipperton Island which is breaking the force of the sea so that launching of the boats will present no danger at all. You all have gone ashore many times in the launches for day trips during this cruise, and now we are going to do that again…. ”

His voice broke off as Captain Rapley rolled over towards him, eyes wide with pain, and tugged at his trouser leg. The hotel manager looked down in horror.

Josep reacted instantly, kicking the Captain viciously in the ribs, and again in the head. Then grinding the gun hard into the hotel manager’s side. His actions spoke louder than any words would have. Fighting to control the tremble in his voice, the hotel manager continued reading.

“We are going to have a shore visit. The people on the island have been informed by radio and are willing to welcome you. Since everyone will be going ashore this time we will use the lifeboats as well as the launches so you can all go at once. Enjoy your trip ashore, I wish I were going with you, and I am sure that you will all enjoy setting your feet on solid ground again, if only for a short time. Thank you.”

“All crew members. Abandon ship.”

These last words sent a shock wave of fear through the waiting passengers. Had the Captain been lying? Were they in danger? Was the fire spreading? Abandon ship, they had heard the words as had the crew. The crew obeyed their orders, herding the passengers forward and into the lifeboats. Unresisting, the passengers moved, holding tightly to the few possessions that they had taken with them. The blocks on the davits creaked as the first lifeboat began its descent, the sailors fending it off from the hull as the slow rollers rocked the ship back and forth.

High above them, out on the bridge wing, Josep looked down at the lifeboats splashing into the sea and moving free of their dropped lines and nodded happily. “Working perfectly,” he said to himself. The launches were also in the water and pulled up by the lowered boarding ladders.

Diaz opened the door to the bridge and called out to him. “I have the hospital on the phone, they want to talk to you.”

Uzi turned and left abruptly. Hank reached out and took the bag from Frances. “I hope he’s right,” Hank said. “If Wielgus and Eitmann are brought to trial all of this might very well be worthwhile.”

“If killing and kidnap are ever worthwhile,” Frances said wearily. Then reached up and kissed him. “Let’s go ashore. I’m looking forward to standing on something that doesn’t move up and down. Just for a change.” Captain Rapley came painfully and hesitantly back to consciousness. Even before he opened his eyes he knew that he was in a small boat because of the choppy motion, the slapping of the waves. His neck and head hurt, his side was painful. Memory was slow in returning — and when it did, he jerked awake and tried to sit up. Gentle hands held him down. He blinked up at the hotel manager, who was sitting next to him.

“It’s all over then?” he said, surprised at the weakness of his own voice. The hotel manager nodded, his face a picture of deep misery.

“We had to abandon the ship. We had no chance.”

“They tricked me. Made me cooperate. Let me think that I would have the ship after they left. When all of the time they intended to get us all off, to hijack it.” A deep, familiar ship’s horn sounded in the distance. “Help me sit up,” he said.

There it was. His ship. The mightiest liner ever built, the QE2. Hundreds of yards away across the sea. Swinging about, her propellors churning up a froth at the stern as the engines picked up speed. Sailing away from him.

“There was no more shooting, thank God,” the hotel j manager said. “All the passengers are ashore, unhurt, f as well as the crew. We’re the last ones. They held us hostage while they searched the ship, kept making announcements that we would be shot if any of the crew tried to remain aboard. They flushed out a few. Beat them up and tossed them in the launch here. The doctor has seen to them. Nothing serious.”

“They’ll be caught,” the Captain said with feeling. “They won’t get away with this. They can’t.” He looked up at the thick clouds already darkening with the approaching night. “These clouds will have to clear away soon. The storm is blowing itself out. They’ll be seen, captured. They are just not going to get away with this.”

The hotel manager did not answer. He just sat and looked at their ship already getting smaller as it picked up speed. Then he shook himself and turned to look towards the bow of the launch, towards the grim island they were approaching. Almost dark, over twenty-five hundred people here. Some of them injured. His responsibility. They would need shelter, food. He would think about that and forget the QE2 now disappearing in a rainstorm far out to sea.

“More champagne?” Josep asked. Uzi nodded and held out his glass. “You too, Diaz. Drink up. This is a celebration of sorts, isn’t it? We’re going to win. Against all odds, against everything. We’re going to win. Even the storm is on our side. Those clouds up there are as solid as they were when we left Acapulco. When was that? It seems a million years ago. Three days. Just three days.”