The QE2 Is Missing

“I want you to issue some orders by telephone, normal orders without trickery.”

“Go to hell.”

“Now, I will not attempt to use force on you, Captain, since I know your military record and I know that you are a very strong man. And I also know that you care about your subordinates. Do you recognize me?”

“Only that you are so ugly you don’t need an ape mask like these creatures.”

“Don’t push me too far, Captain. I am beginning to lose my patience.” He turned to the other two crew members. “Do either of you know who I am? Speak up, I want the information.”

The steward looked towards him fearfully, then at the Captain and quickly away. Josep saw the motion. “You,” he pointed. “Do you recognize me?”

“Maybe, sir, I can’t be sure. Would your picture have been in the News of the World? And an article about you?”

“Very possibly. The name?”

“Josep, sir, something like that. Something to do with the Tupper-marrows.”

“You are correct. I am Josep. We are Tupamaros. Did the article say anything more about us?”

“Lots, sir, begging your pardon, just saying what I read. You’re guerrillas, only you fight in the cities, Communists. And you kill, bomb, rob banks, that sort of thing

“Close enough. Shorn of the propaganda it is close enough. Do you understand now, Captain? Would you like to see me live up to my reputation? I won’t injure you — but I will cheerfully maim, perhaps kill your crew members. Do you believe that?”

“I do,” the Captain said coldly. “I have access to journals other than News of the World, so I know a good deal about you. What do you want?”

“Very good. I wish you to call the engine room or the engineer, or whoever it is you talk to about this sort of thing, and I want you to invent a small situation on Two deck that will require them sending up one man with an oxyacetylene torch. You will say nothing to arouse their suspicions. You will order this man to meet this officer here and we will take it from there. Understood?”

“Very clear.”

“Good. You will make the phone call from here and I will listen on the extension in your bedroom. Please do not make any foolish mistakes, Captain.”

It worked out very smoothly. The Captain was not a stupid man. Josep went with the ship’s officer to meet the engine room rating, who trundled the cutting torch out of the elevator on Two deck ten minutes later. Both crew members were horrified at the thought of cutting into the vault, but were soon convinced by the guns. The sailor pulled on his mask, popped his spark and lit the torch, then set to work next to the lock mechanism. Josep left Concepcion in charge of the situation and took the officer back to the Captain’s quarters. It was all working like clockwork and he was very pleased with himself. From the Captain’s suite it was not too far to the radio room where Diaz and his men were alert and on guard. Diaz signalled him out to the alleyway, then pulled off his mask after he had closed the door behind them.

“This thing not only stinks but I’m sweating inside of it.”

“You’re wearing them for a good reason. We change guards and change masks and they will never know how few of us there are. For propaganda reasons it is best that Concepcion and I show our faces. They respect our reputation.”

“I know all that — but it is still damned uncomfortable. Are we doing all right?”

“Could not be better. One casualty only, and the ship is ours. We can get in touch with the fishing boat now and arrange a rendezvous. I have a contact in Acapulco where the cable office is open all night. He will contact the boat by ship to shore radio. We have a simple code — and the message is already done.”

“Then let us send it and get this business finished with as quickly as possible.”

The operator was more than willing to send the cablegram. It took him a few minutes to contact Acapulco and to transmit the coded message. The contact must have been waiting in the cable office, because the answer came almost as soon as the first message had been received. He tore it off the machine and handed it to Josep, who went into the adjoining compartment to decode it. He worked quickly as well. Less than two minutes later he threw the door open and waved Diaz to him. His features were pale and drawn as though he had just looked death squarely in the face.

“God damn it, God damn it to hell!” he said and banged his fist again and again on the table.

“What’s wrong?” Diaz asked.

“What’s wrong — this is wrong!” He seized up the cable and crumpled it in his hand. “Trouble. Because of the storm. The boat that should be waiting for us has had trouble.”

“They aren’t out there at all! They’ve already headed for the nearest port to make repairs.”

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