Free Dive in the Sun by Douglas Reeman Page A

with his ideas to the others, but something akin to a hidden pride checked him, and he sat staring from one face to the other, and tried to fathom out the exact course which events might take.
    He had considered most possibilities in the past, but all his ideas had included the Navy and everything that went with it. He had always been surrounded and protected by it, and had been brought up to rely on the strange tradition and comradeship of the Service, which was more like a religion. Everywhere he had been he had always been surrounded by others of his own mould, and he had imagined himself after this operation, stepping ashore in Malta or Alexandria, and finding himself right back amongst the safety of the only life he understood. He could not bring himself to realize, even partly, just what it would be like suddenly to find himself washed ashore on some unknown beach, like a piece of flotsam discarded by the sea, and to find a way through a country which hitherto had been merely a collection of superior holiday resorts in his own experience, and was now a sullen, alien territory, with every sort of danger and hazard to keep him and his companions from reaching safety.
    He nearly screamed aloud when Duncan started to talk about his father, and Curtis had begun to question the Australian about his farm and that distant life. It was crazy and unreal, and as if they were two strangers passing the time on a long-distance train journey, especially when, a short time previously, the skipper had been almost on the point of striking Duncan while the enemy dock had groaned threateningly overhead. And what was all that about murdering the previous diver? Jervis looked carefully at Curtis’s set face and cold eyes as if he might find the answer there.
    Curtis paused in his search and glanced up quickly, scanning the boy’s face questioningly. ‘Get out of that diving suit, Ian,’ he snapped, ‘and start smashing it up, and all the other diving gear. Got it?’
    Jervis coloured and dropped his eyes, as if caught out in his thoughts, and began to struggle out of his suit. So there was no chance of a change of plans. It was all decided, and they were going to abandon the boat. He had held on to the forlorn hope that perhaps the damage wasn’t quite so serious, and that there might still be a chance of making for the rendezvous.
    As if in answer, Taylor let free a stream of curses as the compass danced madly in its case.
    Jervis thought of the towing submarine’s cosy wardroom and the smell of closely-packed, friendly bodies, and the buzz of casual but steadying conversation, which spelled safety and hope. He bent over his task, his eyes stinging with tears and loneliness.
    Curtis sighed and sat back on his haunches to survey the pile of gear beside him.
    ‘I think that’s about all,’ he was thinking aloud. ‘Tinned food and chocolate. A torch, two escape maps, and a couple of grenades.’
    Duncan smiled bleakly. ‘Not exactly a campin’ outfit, is it? Still, I daresay we’ll get by.’
    Curtis eyed him, his blue eyes troubled. ‘I’m not looking forward to it myself, you know!’
    He was amazed that he was able to think so clearly again, and that the ache of fear only lurked in his heart and not in his limbs. Perhaps it was because something outside his own will had taken over command of his actions, or maybe it was just the inevitability of disaster.
    ‘Matter of fact,’ continued Duncan calmly, ‘I’m thinkin’ it might be quite amusin’!’ He released one hand from a lever to wave down the obvious protest. ‘No, quite seriously, it’ll be a sort of change for us.’ He looked around the control-room, taking in the dirt and disorder, and the crumpled figures of the others. ‘It’s time we got shot of this for a bit. We ought to find the trip back quite interestin’!’ He laughed impetuously. ‘Say, Ralph, what a lark it’d be if we captured Mussolini or somethin’ like that!’ He chuckled and rolled his