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Suddenly Larry became aware of the faint but
distinct sound of another motor. He peered off
into the darkness on his starboard side, and
after a few moments was able to make out the
outlines of an old-fashioned Chinese junk, her
hull gracefully rounded, her aft deck high above
the waterline, her multicolored sails flapping.
But this was no ordinary junk that depended on
sails and wind for power. Apparently she was
equipped with a diesel engine, and cut swiftly
through the water. She seemed to be heading in
Larry's general direction, and he was afraid
that she might be a patrol ship operated by the
Tientsin harbor militia. Perhaps something
suspicious had been noted, and she was coming to
investigate.
Using an aluminium oar painted dark green as
a rudder, he immediately steered toward the
sheltering rocks of the natural reef off to his
port side. Although his knowledge of the sea was
limited, he had been taught what to do in just
such an emergency and reacted at once. if men on
the junk were searching for an intruder he and
his little boat would be at least partly visible
against a background of the twenty-foot-high
dark rocks, so he headed around their point to
the water beyond them, hoping to put them
between him and his possible pursuers.
Then he felt a wave of panic. The nylon line,
many hundreds of yards long, that still bound
him to the Shark might become fouled in the
blades of the junk's motor. If that should
happen the harbor militiamen might catch sight
of the submarine's camouflaged sail at the outer
side of the harbor. An alarm would be given and
the Chinese would discover that an American
warship had crept into the waters off Tientsin.
Larry reached down to his heel, tapped on it,
and drew his knife. He would cut the line rather
than risk placing the crew of the Shark in
jeopardy. But he paused with his hand only a few
inches from the rapidly uncoiling line. His own
chances of escaping detection would be severely
decreased if he cut the line, as it would be
difficult for him to dispose of the rubber boat
and outboard motor. In case of absolute
necessity he would sink it, as he had been
taught, but an oil slick might rise to the
surface or a small part might come loose and
float. If the craft or any portion of it should
be found there was a chance that the authorities
would suspect that an alien agent had landed,
making his job all the more difficult.
He played out an extra hundred yards of the
line and held his breath as the junk cut between
him and the submarine. He began to perspire
heavily, even though the night was bitterly
cold. Then the junk glided on, the blades of her
motor still purring smoothly. The weight of the
waterlogged line had hauled it deep beneath the
surface of the sea, and the junk had passed over
it.
As nearly as he could guess, the men on board
suspected no unusual activity. If they were
harbor militia they were simply making a routine
inspection and had seen nothing out of the
ordinary.
Another ten minutes passed before Larry heard
the gentle slap-slap of water against smooth
stones. He knew that directly ahead was the
five-hundred-year-old seawall built by the
slaves of a mighty Chinese emperor. The end of
his journey was at hand. He could no longer make
out even the haziest outline of the Shark's
sail, and was certain that he couldn't be seen
from the ship either. He opened a flap on the
bottom of the rubber boat and drew out an
infrared light shaped like a pencil. Leaping
onto the seawall, he snapped on the light and
swung it in a wide arc, very slowly and
deliberately, three times.
Since Captain Richard's binoculars were
fitted with an infrared sighting device, the
skipper of the Shark would know that Larry had
landed safely. Finally the line became taut, and
the rubber boat began to move, silently and
seemingly under its own power. Suddenly, Larry
remembered that he was still clutching the
infrared light. He squinted, lobbed it, and
heaved a sigh of relief when he heard a slight
thud as it landed inside the boat. A moment
later the craft disappeared from sight, and
Larry checked his watch. Trusted members of the
crew had practiced this part of the operation
repeatedly. So he knew that it would take them
three and a half minutes to haul the boat out to
the Shark, two minutes to prepare for
submersion, and another two to get under way.
He had penetrated the Bamboo Curtain
successfully; now the time had come for him to
look after himself. |
