Arctic Enemy Part 3

'But, sir,' interjected Patrick, 'it's not really luck at work here, is it? You yourself hand-picked this crew. I think we've left very little to chance!'

Sarah cast a discreet glance down the table to Tony, who was nodding in silent agreement with the First Officer.

'Perhaps you have more faith in men than I do,' Guy offered. 'Men are fallible. Nothing will ever change that.'

'Then what's the answer, sir?'

'There is none. There's only training and drills and above all, discipline. To that end, I will be holding a series of drills to simulate various emergencies we might run into. Some will be announced beforehand, some not. In any event, your men must act as though each exercise is the real thing.'

Angus Dunn, the First Engineer, was frowning and biting on the stem of his pipe. Guy was quick to catch his perplexity. 'A problem, Mr Dunn?'

'Maybe. My men in the engine room are tense enough, trying to get the feel of this new equipment. I'm picking up an atmosphere down there I'm not happy with. I'm wondering-only wondering, mind you-if your constant inspections aren't going to cause some trouble.'

Guy looked around the table. 'How do the rest of you feel about this?'

'I've seen it, too, sir,' said Patrick cautiously. 'Nothing I can pin down, yet. Just a general tenseness.'

Tony's hand suddenly came down on the table with a slap that made Sarah start. 'This is exactly what I was afraid of, Guy. Why couldn't all this have been done while they were on sea trials from j.a.pan to Rotterdam? These scare tactics of yours are demoralising the crew. They're a fine bunch of men, and they deserve better than this!'

Sarah set her pencil down and folded her hands in her lap. If Tony and Guy were going to air some dirty Freeland linen, she didn't want to be caught writing it down.

'That had been my intention, Tony,' said Guy with deceptive calm. 'You know very well that I had no choice but to accept the S.O.S. from that tanker breaking up off South Africa. It threatened to give us the worst oil spill in history. You may recall that before I left I requested a delay in the Enterprise's departure.' Sarah watched the rhythmic tic of a jaw muscle with growing alarm.

Tony jabbed a long finger angrily at the table. 'In the first place, you needn't have gone. You knew we were committed to this sailing date. Freeland s.h.i.+pping does not go back on its word! Every day that goes by costs us a hundred thousand dollars, whether we're at sea or tied to a dock. Price was satisfied with her seaworthiness. I was not about to delay a multi-million-dollar venture just because you were off playing hero!'

It was far too intimate a baring of emotion between the two men. Sarah studied the faces of the officers. Each was flushed with embarra.s.sment, staring at his pen or nails as if they were the most fascinating object in the world. Only tough old Angus Dunn was openly looking at Tony and Guy, obviously enjoying the set-to immensely.

'What I think is demoralising, Tony,' said Guy, through tightly clenched teeth, 'is facing the unknown. I want to be honest about what may be ahead. If you officers think I'm asking too much of your men, I'm sorry. But I've only just begun here.'

He gathered his papers, shoved them into his briefcase, and rose, all in one motion. 'Questions, gentlemen?'

The reply was an uneasy silence. He nodded abruptly and vanished.

Not half an hour had pa.s.sed before the clang-clang-clang of the emergency alarm made Sarah's heart leap. The duty officer's voice broke over the loudspeaker. 'Fire in the engine-room! Fire in the engine-room! Emergency stations!'

Sarah heard the sudden banging of cabin doors and the thudding of dozens of feet in the corridor. Was it a drill, or was it the real thing? She felt the unpleasant surge of adrenalin pumping into her system and was sorry for the crew who had to respond with such absolute calm.

Sarah had heard the officers speculate that there would be at least one prearranged drill before Guy surprised them. She, however, guessed otherwise. If she was wrong, of course, if there really was a fire, she knew she would be breaking a cardinal rule and would, one way or another, be in a great deal of trouble. At the lifeboat drill, it had been stressed that she, Katie, and Emily, on hearing such an alarm, were to don their lifejackets immediately and wait in their rooms for further instructions.

But Sarah was determined to follow her hunches whatever the danger. In a flash, she was out of her room and racing down the steep steel steps to the engine-room.

The atmosphere was almost h.e.l.lish with the ceaseless pounding of machinery, the steady whoop of alarms, and the flas.h.i.+ng of lights. At first, the rush of activity in the windowless room with its banks of control panels told her she had made a fatal mistake: Intense concentration was painfully etched on the sweat-streaked faces of the men. Whatever was going on was being taken with dead seriousness. But there was no smoke, no fumes. And finally she saw Guy and Patrick, standing on a metal grid platform overlooking the scurrying troops. They held the ever-present clipboards and were taking notes.

Sarah exhaled with relief. She had guessed right. Now the problem was to find a safe niche where she could keep from being plowed under in the mad rush. And, she thought, with a tickle of apprehension, keep from being spotted by the formidable conductor of this exercise.

She scanned the room frantically, but was not quick enough. Guy had spotted her, and his anger was written clearly across his face. He slashed the air with a furious gesture indicating, she knew, the exit.

In return, she tossed him a quick wave and her brightest smile. With mingled fear and satisfaction she watched a thundercloud settle on his brow.

He shouted at her, but over the din she could not hear him. It didn't count, she told herself, that she knew from reading his lips that the words he spoke were quite to the point and perfectly clear: Get out!

Keeping her smile intact, she cupped her hand to her ear and shook her head to show she couldn't hear him. Then she made a dash for the corner and did not look at him again until she was sure he was too occupied with other matters to bother with her.

A young cadet went trotting up to him. 'Valves four and five will be closed next, sir,' he rapped out in obvious satisfaction with his role in the little drama.

'Correct,' came the reply. 'But valve five will stick, Grant. Your next move-'

The boy's face fell. He had not expected this imaginary complication. His eyes looked slightly frantic as he racked his brains for an answer.

'I will inform Mr Dunn, sir,' was his hopeful response.

'Mr Dunn has been overcome by fumes, Grant.'

Grant bit his lip in near panic. Confused, he stared at Angus Dunn who, far from being overcome, was busy himself at a control panel. For a moment he looked utterly rattled, unable to sort out what was wanted from him. Sarah felt a wave of sympathy for him. There was no need to bully him! Even Patrick looked as if he was willing Grant to come up with the right answer.

'I'll shut down the control switch on the oil flow control panel, sir.'

It was more of a question than a statement, but the almost imperceptible upturning of Patrick's lips told Sarah he had acquitted himself.

'Carry on, Grant,' was all that Guy said. The cadet grinned and fled.

Not even a word of praise, thought Sarah, scribbling furiously. Did he always have to be so tough?

The klaxon became mercifully silent. The last of the imaginary flames were presumably smothered, explosion averted, and the mock injured carted out on stretchers. As Patrick instructed the crew to stand easy, Sarah executed her own departure.

She closeted herself in her cabin for the rest of the day, having the steward bring her dinner on a tray. It was almost bedtime before she was through. Pus.h.i.+ng her chair back, she looked at the growing pile of paper with quiet satisfaction. Slowly, slowly, out of the great ma.s.s of data she was collecting, she was beginning to fas.h.i.+on a first-rate story. The real thrust of it she did not yet have a feel for. But she trusted it would come, in its own good time.

Exhausted from hours spent bent over her desk, sticky from the heat and chaos of the engine room, she craved a long, hot shower.

An hour later, wrapped in her silk dressing gown, a towel circling her damp hair, she padded back into her bedroom. She glowed from head to toe from the stinging spray, and smelled delightfully of powder.

There was a single knock at the door, Katie, she thought, crossing barefoot to the door. It would be lovely to curl up and chat with another woman after such a difficult day!

But the face that greeted her was Guy's, and without invitation he pushed past her. Sarah shrugged. 'Do come in,' she said to his back.

He didn't reply, but looked openly around the cabin, sauntered over to the desk, and flipped carelessly through her notes.

Sarah put her hands to her hips and stared at him in disbelief. 'Do you mind?' she said, exasperated. 'That happens to be my private work!'

He looked at her coldly. 'I see,' he said, a hand thrust aggressively into his pocket. He had taken off the uniform and replaced it with slacks and a heavy turtleneck. 'Intruding on other people's work is strictly a one-way street with you.'

Sarah folded her arms defensively across her chest. 'Tony didn't put the engine room off limits to me, you know.'

'And you know I specifically ordered you out of there this afternoon!'

'There was a great deal of noise in there,' she retorted.

'Don't play games with me, Sarah. I'm not that sort of man.' It was the first time he had ever called her by her given name, and it made her stomach do a curious little flip.

'I hadn't thought you were,' she replied honestly.

There was silence between them, painful and awkward for her, but seemingly of no importance to him. With maddening calm he lit a wooden match with his thumbnail and drew his pipe to life. Sarah inhaled the rich, stirring aroma of his tobacco. Unsettled, she broke the silence.

'Would it be too much for you to tell me just why you've granted me this visit?'

'Two reasons,' he said at last. 'One is to return this to you-' He produced her broken heel which he tossed on to her bed. 'The other is to give you a little free advice. Be careful about what you write, Sarah. You're in way over your head here, and you can do a great deal of damage through ignorance. So do everyone a favour and stick to chatty descriptions of lifeboat drill, or how the officers' wives pa.s.s their time.'

'You know,' she said softly, 'you really are insufferable. What gives you the right to speak to me this way? To a.s.sume that you know what I can and cannot write!'

His voice was deep and disturbing. 'There isn't any point in trying to deceive me, Sarah. You know as well as I do what I'm talking about.'

How could she argue with such vague and malicious insinuations! Helpless with frustration, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rose and fell with each angry breath. Was it utterly beyond him to be civil to anyone?

She saw his eyes fasten on the damp tendrils of hair that clung to her cheeks. Indignantly she watched as he turned and eyed the array of cosmetics on her bedside table. Insolently, he picked up a tiny crystal flask of perfume and bounced it on his palm.

'I think you'd better go now,' she flashed, yanking the door open.

'Right,' he said. 'It looks as if I've interrupted some preparations. Primping for a nightcap in the owner's suite?'

The fragile control Sarah had fought for snapped. Her hand came across his face with a force that shocked her. Inhaling sharply, she clutched her smarting fingers to her chest and watched the ugly scarlet mark that sprang up on his cheek.

Incredibly, there was no response from him. He simply turned calmly on his heel and left her room as if absolutely nothing unusual had happened between them.

Sarah slammed the door shut and fell back against it, weak and trembling. Anger and guilt in equal measure churned inside her. Guy Court had radiated contempt for her from the first time he had laid eyes on her. Now she thought he actually hated her. It was insane. Nothing could explain such an unreasonable dislike between two people!

The drowsiness that had fallen over her earlier evaporated, and the cabin began to press in on her from all sides. Quickly she rubbed her hair dry, pulled on pants and a sweater, and headed for the distraction of the wardroom.

Sarah discovered that the wardroom of a supertanker never closed down. It was always available as a hushed and comfortable haven for those who must work while the rest of the s.h.i.+p slept. Huge urns dispensed a steady stream of coffee and chocolate for those coming to or from watches, while a buffet provided an array of sustaining cold meat, rolls and fruit.

As Sarah slipped in, she was delighted to see the welcoming face of Emily Price. 'Sarah, my dear-come and join me! I'm just putting in some time with coffee and the latest thriller until John comes off duty.'

Sarah got her own mug and settled down beside the older woman. 'I didn't know Captain Price worked this evening s.h.i.+ft, Emily.'

'He doesn't, usually. But there are standing orders to summon him when we run into fog. We're into quite a patch of it now.'

For a while, the two women talked companionably about Emily's life as a Master's wife. The m.u.f.fled throbbing of the giant screws far beneath them and the pale circle of amber light that encircled them had a tranquillising effect on Sarah. But perversely, she found herself looking for an opportunity to bring the conversation around to Guy Court.

'Do you know Tony and Guy personally, Emily?' she asked at last, nervously running a long, polished nail around and around the rim of her mug.

Emily set her empty cup on the table and frowned. 'Since boyhood, I suppose,' she replied. 'But only from a distance... more through company gossip, you might say. John knows Guy very well, though, and I've come to know him better since I've been going to sea myself.'

'But not Tony?'

'Oh, no,' she replied, shaking her head emphatically. 'Tony never sailed the way Guy did. There's one thing you have to understand about those two: they both share one obsession in life, and that's Freeland s.h.i.+pping. They've lived and breathed it since they were in short pants. But from entirely different perspectives.' Emily paused and tilted her head thoughtfully. 'It's as if when they look at a s.h.i.+p, they each see something else.'

Sarah tucked her tiny feet up under her and leaned closer to her companion. 'How do you mean, Emily?'

'Well... I think Guy sees only the s.h.i.+p-its design, its structure, its personality. But Tony sees it as just one part of the whole... something that serves the entire s.h.i.+pping enterprise.'

'I suppose they both began to work early in the family business.'

'That's true,' Emily confirmed. 'But once again, in very different ways. You see, the business came down equally into the hands of the three Freeland children-Julian, Charles, who was Tony's father, and Diana, who is Guy's mother. Several years ago, Charles was killed in an automobile accident. It was at that point that Tony began to take an active role in the administrative side.'

'That must have been a relief for Julian.'

'Yes, I think it was. He and Charles were very close, I understand, so it did his heart good to see Charles' son step in.'

'And where did that leave Guy?'

'Well, Guy, you see, was never one for the landbound side of it. By the way, Tony and Guy both have brothers and sisters. But none of them wanted to work in the business, although they all retain some financial share in it. Anyway, when Guy was still in his teens, he went off as a deckhand and learned every phase of a s.h.i.+p's operations. For a while there I think Diana Court was fretting that she was going to have a son on her hands with no formal education to his credit. But eventually, in his twenties, he went back to school in England and took advanced degrees in marine engineering and architecture. He developed a special interest in the safety problems on supertankers. Right about that time there was a string of very bad accidents-oil spills and explosions. Lives were lost, fisheries ruined. They weren't, I should add, Freeland s.h.i.+ps.'

'Yes,' said Sarah, 'I recall them very well. The pictures were terrible... beaches ruined, blackened seagulls trapped and dying. And fishermen who'd spent their lives paying off their boats- bankrupt!'

Emily pressed her mouth into a thin line. 'It was a terrible business, all right. And it was in response to it that Julian established Guy's office as Executive Director of Marine Safety. It caused quite a stir at the time, I remember! But John was all for it.'

'Not everyone agrees with your husband, I take it.'

'Sorry to say, no,' conceded Emily. 'Guy's authority causes some to fear him... maybe with reason, who knows? But still, he's in great demand. Other s.h.i.+pping companies call him in frequently as a consultant, sometimes too late, and then he has to figure out what went wrong. If the proper systems for coping with a problem don't exist, then he's back at the s.h.i.+pyards designing them.'

Sarah gave a quirky little smile. 'He's quite a man, then... architect, lecturer, engineer, a general gun-for-hire.' And, she wanted to add, a boor and a bully who was far too sure of himself. She settled for a more diplomatic tack.

'Still, his purpose would be better served if he didn't come on quite so strong, don't you think, Emily?'

Emily chuckled. 'Maybe it's all that time at sea. It encourages a kind of directness in a man. And Guy never was one to hold back. Not like Tony, who has those smooth-as-cream manners... although I hear there's a good bit of iron there, too. Rumour has it,' she added, inclining her head to Sarah's ear, 'that the contract for the Arctic Enterprise just about split the company down the middle.'

Sarah blinked. 'But why would such a goldmine cause friction in the company?'

Emily shrugged. 'No one knows for sure. Being a family-owned business, they can keep secrets better than most. But it's thought that Guy dragged his heels and almost cost them the contract. Tony fought-and won. In the bargain, he supposedly pulled Freelands out of financial hot water.'

Sarah shook back her auburn hair, incredulous. 'What would he have to gain from undermining his own company? It doesn't make sense!'

'Oh, mind, I'm not saying he did. Some say he was using the Enterprise as an excuse to execute some sort of power play for control of the company, but made a serious miscalculation. People have always thought that Guy would emerge the stronger of the two and eventually dominate the company the way his Uncle Julian did for years. Now they're wondering. If there was a power struggle, I'd say Tony's been the victor.'

Sarah bit her lower lip softly, lost in thought. 'Emily,' she said at last, 'could it be that Guy is putting everyone through this harrowing inspection just out of spite... to take some of the glow off his cousin's triumph?'

Emily looked very stern. 'I won't believe that of Guy,' she said firmly. 'Not without proof. I've never thought he had a devious bone in his body. Oh, he may run a little roughshod over people sometimes. But it would be a bitter disappointment to find out he's capable of such mischief! But now, Sarah,' she said, her voice brighter, 'I'm afraid I've overstayed myself. John will be wondering where on earth I've wandered to! Will Katie and I see you for breakfast in the morning?'

Sarah started, drawn abruptly from her wandering thoughts. 'Oh yes-bright and early!' she chirped. She waved goodbye as Emily trundled out of the door, but her mind was already spinning off, trying to unravel the twisted relations.h.i.+p she was beginning to perceive between the two cousins.

Emily obviously resisted the notion that Guy was a spoiler and a poor loser acting out of jealousy. But Emily had not seen the coldness in his eyes. Had not been the object of his vicious comments. She had. And she could believe him capable of anything.

The side door burst open, admitting a blast of newly frigid air and two junior officers. They looked exhausted and took no notice of Sarah as they filled mugs and brought them back to a corner table.

As he sat, one of them spilled scalding coffee on his uniform and said a short, unpleasant word.

'Easy, Mark,' said the other.

The young man sat down heavily. 'Sorry. I'm a bit off tonight, I guess... all this extra bother with Court.'