'!I agree," said Mahmoud, and went off to tell his men. "Turn out your navigation lights," Hassan told the captain. As the Nablus closed with the other ship, night fen. "I'm almost certain that's the Coparelli," Hassan said. The captain lowered his binoculars. "She has three cranes on deck, and all her upperworks are aft of the hatches." "Your eyesight is better than mine," Hassan said. I'Shes the Coparellf." He went below to the galley, where Malurfoud was addressing his troops. Mahmoud looked at him as he stepped inside. Hassan nodded. "This is it." I Mahmoud turned back to his men. "We do not expect much resistance. The ship is crewed by ordinary seamen, and there is no reason for them to be armed. We go in two boats, one to attack the port side and one the starboard. On board our first task is to take the bridge and prevent the crew from using the radio. Next we round up the crew on deck." He paused and turned to Hassan. "Tell the captain to get as close ible to the Caparelli and then stop engines." as posst Hassan turned. Suddenly he was errand boy again: Mahmoud was demonstrating that he was still the battle leader. Hassan felt the humiliation bring a rush of blood to his cheeks. "Yasif." He turned back. "Your weapon." Mahmoud threw him a gun. Hassan caught it. It was a small pistol, almost a toy, the kind of gun a woman might carry in her handbag. The Fedayeen roared with laughter. Hassan thought: I can play these games too. He found what looked like the safety catch and released it. He pointed the gun at the floor and pulled the trigger. The report was very loud. He emptied the gun into the deck. There was a silence. Hassan said, "I thought I saw a mouse." He threw the gun back to Mahmoud. The Fedayeen laughed even louder. Hassan went out. He went back to the bridge, passed the message to the captain, and returned to the deck. It was very dark now. For a time all that could be seen of the Coparelli was its light Then, as he strained his eyes, a silhouette of solid black became distinguishable against the wash of dark gray- The Fedayeen, quiet now, had emerged from the galley and stood on deck with the crew. The NabWa engines (Red The crew lowered the boats. Hassan and his Fedayeen went ever the side. Hassan was in the same boat as Mahmoud. The little launch bobbed on the waves, which now seemed immense. They approached the sheer side of the Coparelli. There was no sip of activity on the ship. Surely, Hassan thought, the officer on watch must bear the sound of two engines approaching? But no alarms sounded, no lights flooded the deck, no one shouted orders or came to the rail. Mahmoud was first up the ladder. By the time Hassan reached the Coparelli's deck the other team was swarming over the starboard gunwale. Men poured down the companionways and up the ladders. Still there was no sign of the Coparegirs crew. Hassan bad a dreadful premonition that something had gone terribly wrong. He followed Mahmoud up to the bridge. Two of the men were already there. Hassan asked, "Did they have time to use the radior, "%Fho?" Mahmoud said. They went back down to the deck. Slowly the men were emerging from the bowels of the boat, looking puzzled, their cold gum in their hands. Mahmoud said: "Ibe wreck of the Marie Celeste." Two men came across the deck -with a frightened looking sailor between them. Hassan, spoke to the sailor in English. 'Vhaes happened here?" The sailor replied in some other language. Hassan had a sudden terrifying thought. "Let's check the bold," he said to Mahmoud. They found a companionway leading below and went down into the hold. Hassan found a light switch and turned it on. The hold was full of large oil drums, sealed and secured with wooden wedges. The drums had the word PLumBAT stenciled on their sides. "nat's it," said Hassan. '11at's the uranium."
They looked at the drums then at each other. For a moment all rivalry was forgotten. "We did it," said Haman. "By Ood, we did it."
As darkness fell Tyrin had watched the engineer go forward to switch on the white fight. Coming back, he had not gone UP to the bridge but had walked farther aft and entered the galley. He was going to get something to eat. Tyrin was hungry too. He would give his arm for a plate of salted herring and a loaf of brown bread. Sitting cramped in his lifeboat all afternoon, waiting for Koch to move, he had had nothing to think about but his hunger, and be had tortured himself with thoughts of caviar, smoked salmon, marinated mushrooms and most of all brown bread. Not yet, Pyotr, he told himself. As soon as Koch had disappeared from sight, Tyrin got out of the lifeboat, his mu cles protesting as he stretched, and hurried along the deck to the foeard store. He had shifted the boxes and junk in the main store so that they concealed the entrance to his small radio room. Now he had to get down on hands and knees, pun away one box, and crawl through a little tunnel to get in. Ile, set was repeating a short two-letter signal. Tyrin checked the code book and found it meant he was to switch to another wavelength before acknowledging. He set the radio to transmit and followed his instructions. Rostov immediately replied. CHANGE OF PLAN. HASSAN WILL ATTACK COPARELL. Tyrin frowned in puzzlement, and made: REPEAT PLEASE. RASSAN IS A TRAITOR. FEDAYEEN WILL ATTACK COPARELLI. Tyrin said aloud: "Jesus, what's going on?" The Coparelli was here, he was on it ... Why would Hassan for the uranium, of course. Rostov was SO signaling. HASSAN PLANS TO AMBUSH DICKSTEIN. FOR OUR PLAN TO PROCEED WE MUST WARN DICKSTEIN OF THE AMBUSH. Tyrin frowned as he decoded tb* then his face cleared as he understood. "Men we'll be back to square one," he said to himself. 'Ibat's clever. But what do I dor, He made: How? YOU WILL CALL STROMBERG ON COPARELLIS REGULAR WAVELENGTH AND SEND POLLOWINO MESSAGE PRECISELY REPEAT PRECISELY. QUOTE COPARELLI TO STROMBERO I AM BOARDED ARABS I THINK. WATCH UNQUOTE. Tyrin nodded. Dickstein would think that Koch had time to get a few words off before the Arabs killed him. Forewarned, Dickstein should be able to take the Coparelli. Then Rostov's Karla could collide with Dickstein's ship as planned. Tyrin thought: But what about me? He made: UNDERSTOOD. He heard a distant bump, as if something had hit the ship's hull. At first he ignored it, then he remembered there was nobody aboard but him and Koch. He went to the door of the for'ard store and looked out. The Fedayeen had arrived. He closed the door and hurried back to his transmitter. He made: HASSAN is HERE. . Rostov replied, SIGNAL DICKSTEIN NOW. WHAT DO I DO THEN? MDE. Thanks very much, Tyrin thought. He signed off and tuned to the regular wavelength to signal the Stromberg. The morbid thought occurred to him that he might never eat salted herring again.