Dark vendetta, p.1
Dark Vendetta, page 1
DARK VENDETTA
Simon Larren Espionage Series
Book Two
Robert Charles
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1: THE SINKING OF THE VIGILANT
CHAPTER 2: CONFERENCE
CHAPTER 3: STRIKE PARTY
CHAPTER 4: THE BLACK-GLOVED KILLER
CHAPTER 5: ENTER SIMON LARREN
CHAPTER 6: AT THE SIGN OF THE SCARLET DRAGON
CHAPTER 7: SNARED BY A SMILE
CHAPTER 8: VICTORY AND DEFEAT
CHAPTER 9: IN THE SAMPAN JUNGLE
CHAPTER 10: THE DYING TESTAMENT OF TAO SHEN
CHAPTER 11: MAXINE DISAPPEARS
CHAPTER 12: INVITATION TO LOVE
CHAPTER 13: DISCOVERY OF A CORPSE
CHAPTER 14: SILENCE
CHAPTER 15: MIDNIGHT LANDING
CHAPTER 16: CALCULATED RISK
CHAPTER 17: AMBUSH
CHAPTER 18: DISASTER
CHAPTER 19: “FOR YOU, ANDREA, MY DARLING”
CHAPTER 20: MOMENT OF VENGEANCE
CHAPTER 21: THE LONG SWIM
NOTE TO THE READER
ALSO BY ROBERT CHARLES
CHAPTER 1: THE SINKING OF THE VIGILANT
The explosion came as a complete shock; a heart-stopping, brain-tearing impact that crippled ship and men alike. At one moment Vigilant was cruising slowly at periscope depth, the next she was slammed sideways with savage, stunning force. She reared like a threshing whale, lifting half out of the water in one wild, upward lunge. The sea that a moment ago had been calm and placid boiled and surged around her steel-plated casing, beating at her in disturbed fury until she sank back into a maelstrom of foam.
High above, the Chinese pilot of the Russian-built Mig fighter watched with mixed feelings as he brought his plane wheeling round in a tight circle through the sky. He knew that his missile had not scored a direct hit for the submarine had not blown up, but her violent reaction showed that he had achieved a very near miss. The rocket he had fired had exploded on hitting the surface of the water just beside her.
He hesitated for a few seconds and then began calling the surface ships below.
In the control room of Vigilant there was chaos. Men had been hurled about like rag dolls. Her Captain, Lieutenant-Commander Rogerson, sprawled unconscious on the steel deck, blood staining his dark hair just above the left ear. Stanton, the Navigation Officer was on his knees, gasping and retching. There wasn’t one man on his feet. Every light had smashed with the impact and the submarine was totally blacked out.
Vigilant writhed in a whirlpool of her own making and then her bows dipped and her deck canted at an angle; out of control she began sliding down towards the seabed.
In the officers’ wardroom First-Lieutenant Waverly, the sub’s Number One, picked himself up from the deck where he had been thrown against the bulkhead. He swayed groggily and then began to grope around the wardroom until he found an emergency torch. He could hear one of the stewards moaning as he flashed the torch on, but he didn’t stop to look for the man. His ears were ringing and he was still dazed, but one thing was clear; he had to get to the control room. Vigilant, Britain’s latest and finest nuclear submarine, was plunging straight for the bottom.
He stumbled out of the wardroom and found himself running downhill as the deck tilted steeply forwards. He heard another man behind him as he reached the control room and together they stumbled inside.
Waverly flashed his torch around the shambles of groaning men. Only Stanton was on his feet, looking grey and shocked in the torchlight. The rating who had followed Waverly blurted out hoarsely, “the Old Man,” and pushed past to reach the still figure of Rogerson.
Waverly said harshly. “Damn the Old Man, the ship’s sinking. Man the hydroplanes.”
The rating looked up slowly, and then Naval discipline took over and he jumped to obey, clamping both hands on the large wheel that controlled the stern hydroplanes. Stanton stepped over the limp figure of a coxswain and manned the fore planes. Waverly took the helm and rapped out a string of orders.
Stanton spun his wheel, his eyes on the large depth gauges. He said savagely. “She won’t answer. She won’t answer the controls.”
Tense seconds passed and then Waverly said tightly:
“She’s coming.”
Slowly Vigilant answered the sweating hands at the controls. Her bows began to lift as she stopped her downward plunge to the ocean floor, gradually she levelled out and began to nose forward through the depths.
The ratings on the floor were beginning to sort themselves out. Only Rogerson was still unmoving. The asdic rating pulled himself back into his seat and stared at his equipment. With an effort he adjusted his earphones. He said sharply:
“There’s a surface vessel coming straight for us, sir. It sounds like a destroyer.”
Waverly felt a sickening, tightening sensation in his stomach and knew that his situation was desperate. There had been a lot of doubts about sending Vigilant into Chinese territorial waters to investigate the strange new shore installations in Choohow Bay, and now it seemed that the more cautious officers back at headquarters had been right.
Somehow Vigilant had been detected, and the Chinese were taking their heaven-sent opportunity to move in for the kill before she could regain international waters and the safe depths of the open sea.
Grimly Waverly took control, ordering avoiding action.
The ratings who had been on duty at the hydroplane controls were now recovered enough to resume their posts, and Stanton was able to attend to the Commander who was still lying on the deck. At the same moment Lieutenant Harlow, the ship’s Third Officer, arrived with Sub-Lieutenant Bennet on his heels.
Waverly felt a little better on having his fellow officers to support him and sent Bennet to check the rest of the ship and report the damage. Two ratings were detailed to carry the unconscious Rogerson to his stateroom.
A few seconds later the Chinese destroyer passed overhead and the first rain of depth charges began to explode around them. The wavering lights of the emergency torches jerked wildly as the ship shuddered and groaned. Waverly snapped more orders and Vigilant responded clumsily to her controls as she twisted through the depths to avoid the attack. Waverly knew that one or more of the hydroplane fins must have been damaged by that first crippling explosion.
High above, the Mig pilot watched the destroyer circling the spot where the submarine had vanished, a sleek grey killer carving twin walls of white foam from the blue seas at the bows. The pilot watched for a moment and then obeyed the curt voice in his earphones that was ordering him to return to base. The submarine was too deep for him to do any good now and he knew that his Commanding Officer was not going to be pleased at his failure to destroy the spy-ship completely.
Nervous tension was stirring at his stomach as his fighter disappeared over the low hills of the China coastline.
Down below the destroyer was coming back for its second attacking run.
In the pitch darkness that filled Vigilant Sub-Lieutenant Bennet was making his way slowly aft when the second series of depth charges hurled him off his feet. Vigilant bucked wildly and trembled from stem to stern. More shocks vibrated around her and then she steadied again.
Bennet groped for his torch and carried on. His hand was slippery around the torch as he crossed a catwalk that led past the reactor and he paused above the engine room. His whole body went cold as he heard the chilling sound of water pouring through ruptured plates. More men with torches were moving below him and in the ghastly half light he saw a miniature flood bursting through the far bulkhead.
Heath, the Engineering Officer, staggered towards him. He was dripping wet and smeared with oil, his face was tight and pale as he stared up the ladder to where the Sub-Lieutenant was standing.
“What the hell’s happening?”
Bennet tried to sound calm. “I’m not really sure, Chief. We’ve obviously been spotted and at the moment there’s a destroyer hunting us. What’s the situation here?”
“Bloody rough. Half my men are unconscious and the other half hardly know what they’re doing.”
“Can you keep the engines going?”
“Of course I can, it’s my job isn’t it.” Heath sounded offended.
“What about that leak?”
“It’s not too serious — looks worse than it is.” Heath turned away, back towards the splashing, cursing men under his command. “I’ll send up a report as soon as I can,” he promised.
Bennet moved on, probing the inky blackness with his torch, blundering into frightened men from the off-duty watches and desperately trying to assess the real extent of the damage. It seemed that Vigilant’s plates had ruptured in several places and the sound of in-rushing seawater sounded above the shouts and curses of the crew.
Back in the control room Waverly was issuing order after order in an attempt to get clear of the pursuing destroyer, but still another series of depth charges tumbled through the seas around them. Vigilant was becoming gradually less responsive to the controls, despite everything the ratings at the hydroplanes could do.
Another near miss made Vigilant vibrate violently and then one of the hydroplane ratings finally had to report.
“The ship refuses to answer, sir. She’s running wild.”
Waverly turned to face the Navigation Officer.
“What course are we on?”
Stanton had the answer ready. “We’re running approximately parallel to the coastline.”
Waverly hesitated for
“Let her run. Full ahead.”
The order passed down the intercom to the engine room. Swiftly the revs built up, and the great propellers churned through the silent depths, sending Vigilant surging at full speed through the undersea world.
Waverly knew that he was very close to the bottom, and despite the most up-to-date echo-sounding equipment to measure the depth beneath him he was running a serious risk of crashing his ship into any ridge or sandbank on the ocean floor. But it was a risk that had to be taken. Speed was now Vigilant’s only chance of escape. Her nuclear-powered engine could give over twenty-five knots even under water, and the destroyer on the surface could not know that she was pursuing an atomic submarine; with luck the sheer, unexpected speed would take them clear.
A few seconds passed and silence reigned. No one spoke. Waverly’s face was tight and strained in the sallow glow of the torches, Stanton and Harlow were sweating.
Then the asdic rating said grimly. “The destroyer’s changed course, sir. She’s coming after us.”
“Steer ninety degrees port,” rapped Waverly. “Try and turn her to the open sea.”
Tense seconds crawled past. The ratings at the hydroplanes spun the control wheels grimly. One of them said tightly:
“The ship isn’t answering, sir. She’s still out of control.”
“Keep trying. Maintain full speed.”
They were the only orders Waverly could give. It was obvious now that the hydroplane fins were badly damaged; Vigilant could only race at full speed and parallel the Chinese coastline with no way of regaining the safe waters beyond the twelve miles that the Chinese claimed as their territorial limits. Her officers could only pray.
Somewhere out to sea the conventional submarine Relentless was standing by, but even if he could contact her Waverly knew that there was nothing she could do. Vigilant was entirely on her own, and Relentless might just as well be back in port.
Above them the destroyer let loose another barrage of depth charges and Vigilant squirmed again as the shock waves sent her reeling. The submarine jerked and rushed off on a slightly altered course that was bringing her ever closer to the Chinese shore. Fortunately the coastline was fairly level, with no jutting headlands that would have spelled the end for the runaway submarine. Even so the officers in the control room were sweating hard as they watched the depth gauges.
Then the destroyer was again lost and the asdic rating reported that the contact was fading.
Waverly began to breathe normally again.
He maintained full speed until he was sure he had given the destroyer the slip and then ordered the speed cut by half. Bruised and battered Vigilant cruised through the depths, still on her runaway course.
Harlow and Stanton moved closer to Waverly and the three officers’ held a hurried conference.
Their plight was serious. Vigilant’s steering gear was almost useless and the submarine was still practically out of control. And even though they had temporarily shaken off their pursuers they were still in enemy waters.
While they conferred Bennet returned with a fairly comprehensive report. Vigilant’s hull had sprung three more leaks apart from the one in the engine room, one was in the crew’s quarters and two were in the forward torpedo room. The Petty Officers had regained some element of order and all the emergency torches were now in use. The number of men still suffering from shock or concussion from that first terrible explosion totalled almost a third of the crew, including the Commander who was still unconscious.
Waverly listened to Bennet’s report and then turned to Heath, the Engineering Officer, who had just appeared, still dripping with oil and seawater.
Heath’s report was shorter, but by far the most alarming. The engine room was under two foot of water and the pumps were hardly keeping it under control. There was also trouble with the generator and Heath feared an explosion.
Waverly hesitated for a long time before saying. “There’s nothing we can do about the generator except trust to you, Chief, and hope. As for the steering problem it’s obvious that we’re not going to make any headway while we’re submerged. We’re nearly fifty miles south of the point where we were attacked so I’m going to chance surfacing as soon as it’s dark. That’s if we can surface. With luck we’ll be able to manoeuvre up top, or at least repair the damage to the steering gear. Until then we’ll lay on the bottom.”
Harlow drew a deep breath. “What happens if the Chinese Navy is still waiting for us?”
Waverly shrugged. “We come back to the bottom — one way or another.”
A few hours later Waverly decided that it must now be as dark on the surface as he could hope for and quietly he gave the order to raise Vigilant to periscope depth.
The submarine handled clumsily, stirring sluggishly through the sea. She was like some expiring sea-monster on the brink of death and it was with great difficulty that she was coaxed towards the surface. There were long moments when Waverly believed that she would never make it but at last she reached the required depth.
Waverly ordered the periscope up and rose up with it, the eyepiece clamped hard against his brows. The periscope broke the low waves on the surface and Waverly stopped its ascent with a wave of his hand to the rating at the control lever. Slowly he took a look round.
There was nothing in sight but the sea, dark, cold and restless, glinting slightly in the starlight. Slowly Waverly revolved the periscope, pausing as he found himself staring at the shoreline of China, a black, rising land mass that was barely three miles away. He realised that he was a lot closer than he had supposed and his lips tightened grimly.
He continued the slow sweep of the periscope but there was nothing else to be seen. Vigilant had the sea to herself.
Waverly made another sweep with the periscope, making doubly sure. It was quite possible that the Chinese had called off the hunt, believing that Vigilant had either escaped to deeper waters or was lying on the bottom some fifty miles back along the coast where she had been depth-charged. But it was also possible that although there were no ships in the vicinity to alarm him there might be aircraft waiting above the clouds, searching for the first signs as the submarine broke surface, the starlight glinting on the rocket warheads slung under their wings.
At last Waverly turned to his fellow officers.
He said quietly. “Maybe they’re waiting for us. Maybe not. The only way to find out is to surface.” He licked his lips and finished: “Relentless should be somewhere in the area, waiting for us to rejoin her. Before we make the attempt we’ll send her a coded signal — that way they’ll know what’s happened if we don’t make it.”
He turned to the chart table and began to make out the signal to Relentless.
Leading Telegraphist James Andrews made the signal to Relentless three minutes later, making quick contact despite the fact that Vigilant was still submerged with only a few feet of her radio antenna protruding above the surface.
Andrews had almost finished the signal when a terrific explosion in the engine room shattered Vigilant from stem to stern. Her hull split wide open and the ship heeled over in agony as the sea burst in. The majority of her crew died instantly as she plunged back towards the bottom.
The gallant Vigilant had made her last signal.
CHAPTER 2: CONFERENCE
It was a magnificent morning. The tall, white skyscrapers of Hong Kong were painful to look at as they reflected the glare of the rising sun. The bright blue waters of the straits between the twin cities of Victoria and Kowloon were a dazzling playground for the busy ferries and the slower junks and sampans. The traffic was roaring down the main artery of Queen Street and the narrow side streets and alleyways were bustling with life and colour. It was soon after dawn and the restless colony of Hong Kong was impatient to begin the new day.
In the long conference room below the overshadowing mass of Victoria Peak there was no such bustle, no noise and no impatience. The amount of gold braid visible around the highly-polished surface of the long table was impressive to say the least. At the head of the table sat a grim-faced Admiral, a Vice-Admiral flanked him on each side; the rest of the group consisted of one Rear-Admiral, one Commodore, two Naval Commanders and one Lieutenant-Commander. Their faces were unsmiling as they faced the Admiral in command and waited. Most of them had no idea of why they had been called, but the Admiral’s face showed that it was no reason for rejoicing.
