Читать книгу To See The Light Return - Sophie Galleymore Bird - Страница 14

Two miles out to sea, the Major was unknowingly echoing Will’s concerns for the safety of himself and the others, who remained invisible even when the slim crescent of the moon emerged from behind cloud to cast light upon the swell. There was a strict embargo on showing lights until their target was in sight. Bobbing around in a small fibreglass day sailing boat with Mrs Mason, as the moon disappeared, and absolute blackness settled all around him, they could have been on their own in the middle of the ocean, if it weren’t for the sound of waves breaking on the boulders of the breakwater, and the occasional light on the horizon behind them.

If only .... The Major drew his thoughts back from that particular cliff edge and turned them in the direction of their mission. Which should be starting … he began to check his watch and realised he couldn’t see it in the dark. And couldn’t show a light. Which meant he couldn’t smoke his pipe. He held it loosely in one hand anyway.

Never mind, he thought, it couldn’t be long now.

It felt like an age before lights appeared off their starboard bow, still way off in the distance as a ship rounded Rame Head. From its running lights, it was headed straight for them. Time to gear up.

He could hear a gentle snoring. Mrs M had fallen asleep. He nudged her and she snorted awake. ‘Boat’s on its way in,’ he whispered.

‘Why are we whispering, who’s going to hear us?’ Mrs M whispered back.

‘There could be a lookout at the breakwater, sound carries.’

He could sense an eyebrow being raised, but she kept her opinion to herself.

‘Papa Bear to Baby Bears, Papa Bear to Baby Bears, hold position and get ready for the approaching bowl, over,’ the Major rasped into his walkie-talkie. Mrs M had chosen the call signs, designating herself Goldilocks. Her reasoning, that no one accidentally coming across their wavelength would take them seriously.

‘Baby One to Papa Bear, received and understood, standing by, over,’ came through the walkie-talkie. Tom and his team were in position.

‘Baby Two to Papa Bear, received and understood, standing by, over.’ So were Dick and his team.

‘Baby Three to Papa Bear, received and understood, standing by, over.’ This came through so close he heard Harriet’s voice in stereo, both through the radio and from his left, nearby.

‘Papa Bear to Baby Three, we’re too bunched up, get yourself over to port. No engines, you’ll need to row. Over.’

He could hear Harriet and her team cursing as they hunted in the bottom of their boat for their oars. A clatter of wood as the oars were slotted into rowlocks and then silence. He gave them a couple of minutes, then ‘Papa Bear to Baby Three, give your position, over.’

‘No idea Papa Bear, but we can’t hear you any more. Er … Baby Three. Over.’

‘Roger that.’ It would have to do.

The lights of the oncoming boat were coming closer. The Major reckoned they had another five minutes until it would be upon them. Mrs Mason nudged his shoulder and passed him her hipflask and a piece of flapjack. While he sipped whisky and ate, he heard her going over their weapons, dry-firing to check the mechanisms were in good working order, before loading them with the few bullets they had. Guns were still fairly easy to come by. Ammunition was harder to find.