Read Online Strike from the Sea (1978) by Douglas Reeman - Free Book Online

trained his lamp, well pleased with Ainslie’s signal.
    Ainslie turned to see how Poulain had taken his remarks, but the little Frenchman had disappeared below. He stepped from the gratings and crossed to the after part of the bridge. The pier was already well astern, but there was no sign of anyone in the village or anywhere else.
    He heard a slight squeak and saw the turret begin to turn, the right and then the left gun moving up and down to emphasize their readiness. It might be a lie, but it would have a great effect on the Japanese, whose deck gun was no more thana three-inch. He returned to the fore part of the bridge and took another bearing from the gyro.
    There was the open sea, held between the twin headlands like blue glass.
    He touched the screen, feeling the strength beneath him. He smiled.
The beast
.
    Menzies said, ‘The Jap’s not following, sir.’
    Ainslie leaned over the voice-pipe. ‘Number One. Tell Chief to increase to full revolutions. Just until we get clear. It will give them something to remember us by.’
    Moments later, with a bow wave creaming away on either side to wash over the rocks and the flotsam left from
Kalistra
’s ramming, the big submarine pushed her way out into the open water, her wake ruler-straight like a long white tail.
    Only when he was certain the other submarine was not following did Ainslie fall out his men from their action stations.
    He added for Quinton’s benefit, ‘See if you can get some food and drink going round. It will break the tension. Then put our people to work. Back to school. When we get back to Singapore I want us to be halfway to being a going concern.’
    Up the voice-pipe he heard Quinton chuckle and say, ‘The catch of the season, eh?’
    If the
Soufrière
resented the sudden change of ownership and command she did not show it. But her previous commander,
Capitaine de Frégate
Michel Poulain, a man who had needed to believe that some day, all on its own, things would be as before, could not accept it. After leaving Ainslie on the bridge he went quietly to his cabin and shot himself through the head.
    As darkness closed around the surfaced submarine, Poulain, wrapped in his own flag, and Petty Officer Osborn, draped in his, were buried at sea.
    Ainslie closed the prayer book and replaced his cap. Perhaps the simple burial was an omen. Or, better still, a symbol.

4
    The Real Thing
    COMMANDER GREGORY CRITCHLEY followed Ainslie into the
Soufrière
’s spacious cabin and said, ‘Better shut the door, Bob. I don’t want the whole boat to hear.’
    Ainslie unslung the binoculars from around his neck and placed them beside his cap on the desk. Outside the pressure hull it was early morning and, as ordered, he had entered Singapore’s naval anchorage at dawn, to be met by a solitary tug and a watchful guardboat.
    It had been an exciting passage from the little island, and Ainslie was proud of the way his company had got down to work to put their training and skills into operation. There had been several mistakes, but nothing really bad, and certainly nothing Lieutenant Lucas and his companions could not put right with a swift translation from French to English, or by taking over the offending instruments themselves.
    Now, tied up to a high-sided depot ship, all but hidden from the base and the rest of the world, it was like an anticlimax, a slap in the face.
    Critchley had been aboard the old depot ship, waiting, watching them as they had made fast alongside. He had said little so far, but Ainslie knew him well enough to recognize the signs. Frustration, anger, despair. He even managed to look his old crumpled self in his white shirt and shorts. There was a smudge of grease on his cap cover like a mark of defiance.
    Ainslie said quietly, ‘She’s a fine boat, Greg. With a bit of work and a few spares I could get her on top line again. She was built when yards had time and money for good results. And to think that all we wanted to do was get her away