Read Strike from the Sea (1978) for Free Online Page B

Now, right on the doorstep, it all seemed wasted, a great big sham. He moved the glasses carefully, knowing they would soon need him back on the bridge. Clusters of huts,
Forster’s village,
swam into view, a few trees, more boats tied up to a pier. There were no beached boats, a sure sign that the water was deep inside the lagoon.
    But equally there was no sign of a submarine, of anything. Perhaps they submerged the boat during daylight? He dismissed the idea at once. The chart, and the two intelligence folios, were insistent that the bottom was too rocky. A submarine’s hull was tough, but not enough for that.
    Then he held his breath. There was a long building near the pier. Like a communal dwelling you often saw in Borneo. But it seemed wrong. Out of place.
    He thrust the glasses into Calver’s hands. ‘Keep watching. Don’t hesitate to call me if you sight anything.’ He met the man’s bright stare as he climbed on to the ladder. ‘
Any
damned thing!’
    The sun was so hot on his head and shoulders that he could barely keep up with his racing thoughts. As he clambered down the ladder he kept thinking of the strange longhouse. Natural enough in some places, but far too large for a small outpost like this.
    They would be watching the old
Kalistra
’s approach, waiting to see what she would do.
    He reached the bridge, gasping for breath.
    ‘Fetch the master! Chop, chop!’
    Kalistra
’s captain was under guard in the galley, and appeared between two seamen within a minute.
    Ainslie seized his arm and pushed him to the screen. ‘See those boats?’ He could feel the man’s fear, and hated himself for adding to his despair. ‘What do they want us to do?’
    The small man said brokenly, ‘Anchor,
Kapitein
! They will send someone –’
    Ainslie snapped, ‘Like hell they will. Get the Chief on the voice-pipe. Now.’
    The lookout on the port screen shouted suddenly, ‘Submarine surfacing, sir! Port quarter!’ He sounded as if he disbelieved what he saw.
    Quinton raised his glasses and exclaimed, ‘The crafty bastard! He must have been outside the whole time, stalking
us
!’
    Ainslie walked from the wheelhouse, ignoring the glare, the sudden anxiety all around him.
    Very deliberately he trained his glasses on the low, glistening fore-casing and the first hump of a conning tower as the submarine continued to flounder to the surface.
    Forster called. ‘Chief’s on the line, sir!’
    Ainslie watched the submarine, amazed he felt so calm. ‘Tell him I want full speed. He knows what to do.’ He lowered the glasses and looked at Quinton. ‘It’s not the
Soufrière
. It’s a Jap sub.’ He saw the swift understanding on Quinton’s dark features.
    Gosling reported, ‘Engine full ahead, sir.’
    Even the bridge was beginning to quiver as the old shaft worked faster and faster in response to Halliday’s efforts.
    Ainslie looked once again at the submarine, fully surfaced now. Tiny, white figures were flitting down from the conning tower towards a deck gun, and the ensign with its red rising sun insignia was floating above the periscope standards.
    ‘Steer for the moored boats, Swain. Pass the word forrard.
Stand by to ram
.’
    He looked across at Menzies. ‘What have you got there, Yeo?’
    Menzies showed his teeth in a fierce grin. ‘Thought you might need it, sir.’ He unrolled a new white ensign and looked at Ainslie with the same expression as a good gun-dog waiting for the order to retrieve.
    Voices echoed along the foredeck, and Ainslie saw Farrant and his men scurrying to their positions, weapons at the ready.
    It was too late now for any more surprises. The Japanese submarine had put paid to that.
    In the same level voice he said, ‘Very well. Run up the colours.’
    Then he walked to the forward screen and watched the entrance which appeared to be reaching out to embrace the ship like arms. The boats were still moored there, and the occupants seemed too stricken by the change of events to