Free Sunset by Douglas Reeman

man’s palm like a carving-knife. A shivering signalman stood right in the eyes of the ship, ready to lower the Jack once the wire was slipped.
    Brooke controlled his breathing. He had taken the big flotilla leader
Murray
to sea many times. But this was different. It was like being someone else. He saw Kerr peering up at him, his face shining with rain. Perhaps he was seeing himself on the bridge as he might have been.
Stubborn. Impulsive
. What had really happened?
    â€˜Stand by, sir!’
    â€˜Warn the Chief.’
    Calvert said, ‘Done, sir.’
    Onslow called, ‘Carry on, sir.’
    Brooke chopped the air with his hand and heard Kerr yell,
‘Slip!’
    â€˜Slow ahead together!’
    Brooke heard the glass screen begin to rattle and saw the big mooring buoy slide away as if under its own power.
    â€˜Port ten! Steady! Midships!’ He heard Pike’s throaty voice echo up the brass voicepipe as he put the helm over. Men were dashing about below the bridge, tackling the treacherous slipwire and subduing it into one shining coil. Then, as Kerr shouted an order, the forecastle party fell into two swaying lines while the signalman scuttled from sight with the Jack in his arms.
    Onslow said angrily, ‘From
Mohican
, sir.
Please proceed. Age before beauty!
’
    One of the look-outs muttered, ‘Cheeky sod!’
    Brooke picked up the red handset and waited for Cusack to answer.
    â€˜Captain here, Chief. Our ability is being challenged. Can you give me full revs when I call for it?’
    Cusack must have known what was happening, or maybe it often occurred. He sounded almost cheerful. ‘Too right, sir.’
    â€˜Signal from boom-gate, sir!
Proceed when ready!
’
    They did not have long to make their exit. Since
Royal Oak
had been torpedoed right here in the Flow it was always feared that another U-boat would slip through the boom when it opened for an outgoing vessel.
    There was no point in using unnecessary helm orders. Brooke spoke directly into the wheelhouse voicepipe.
    â€˜Steer straight for the boom-gate, Cox’n.’ He could picture Pike down there with his beefy hands on the wheel, his head turned as if he had guessed there was more to come. Brooke said, ‘Now ring down for full speed!’
    It was as if
Serpent
was sharing it. She seemed to pounce forward, a huge bow-wave slicing from the stem like an axe through ice.
    â€˜Attention on the upper deck!’
    Brooke raised his glasses and watched as his ship tore abeam and then past the other, more powerful destroyer. He could see the gold oak leaves on her captain’s cap, even his astonishment as the
Serpent
overtook the big Tribal and swept on towards the open boom.
    â€˜Half-speed ahead together.’ He watched the wash boiling astern like a waterfall so that the other ship’s bows were momentarily drenched with falling spray.
    Onslow said quietly, ‘That showed him, sir.’
    Brooke felt it again: pride, and he knew he was sharing it.
    â€˜Not quite, Yeo. Make to
Mohican. Do you require a tow?
’
    â€˜No reply, sir.’
    And so
Serpent
and the ninety souls in her company went back to war.

4
Rumours
    Lieutenant Toby Calvert climbed the last few steps of the bridge ladder and hauled himself through the gate. For a few moments he leaned backwards, taking his weight on his arms while he let the early sunshine explore his skin. It was not very warm, but the air was fresh and alive, and the open bridge was no longer a place of mystery. He belonged.
    The morning watchkeepers were still in their various attitudes of tired stiffness, waiting to be relieved, to snatch some rest before returning to their defence stations in another four hours. Watch on, watch off, for this was the Atlantic, and although the ocean stretched away on either beam in glistening emptiness it was never a time to relax.
    Calvert saw the first lieutenant on the forward gratings, his binoculars training