A Dawn Like Thunder (27 page)

Villiers was staring into the distance. ‘Keppel Harbour? That's taking a chance, isn't it?'

‘Life is a risk, my friend. Each one of my men on board is putting his life at stake, every hour of the day. Which is why the Japanese are not afraid we might try to escape. Our families are their hostages. They are totally ruthless – cruelty is like a ritual to them. Men, women and children are not spared.' He stubbed out the cigarette and selected a fresh one. ‘But you will be safe. You may become like a passport to the future – it is not a mere dream, it is our fervent belief. It may take years, who can say? But we will win.' He looked intently at Villiers. ‘The British will always be welcome here and on the Peninsula. Planters, merchants, engineers – there will be much to do for our people.' He shook his head sharply, as if he had heard a contradiction. ‘But not as colonial governors and rulers. To exchange one yoke for another would be a form of insanity!'

Ross said evenly, ‘We are in your hands. Our aim is the same as yours. Just tell me . . .'

Tsao gave a brief smile. ‘I shall do better. I will
show
you.'

Villiers asked, ‘My home, the house – what's happened to it?'

Tsao regarded him impassively, as if to sound out his strength. ‘It was burned. Much of it was looted, as you are aware. Had I known about your other visit, I would have prevented it. It was reckless, without thought for those who would suffer if they were caught helping you.'

Ross watched and listened. This was no downtrodden junior manager.
I would have prevented it.
It spoke volumes.

Villiers said, ‘I – I know. But I wanted to see for myself.'

Tsao seemed satisfied. ‘I obtained part of the property. I am little liked because of it, and because of my work with the Japanese.'

‘I don't blame you for that. I was told what they did to some of my father's employees.'

Tsao glanced up at the stained deckhead. ‘The tug's master had a sister, too. They took her away, and made her become a comfort-woman for their loathsome army! He does not forget. Neither must you!'

Villiers asked abruptly, ‘May I go on deck?'

Tsao smiled.' Of course. You are a guest, not a prisoner. But do not try to speak with my people. They will not talk. Safety is like a chain. Each link must be secure.'

He watched Villiers pause by the door, waiting for the deck to fall heavily as
Success
ploughed into a deep trough. There was a brief smell of funnel smoke, and then he was gone.

Tsao said, ‘I would have felt easier if you had come alone, Commander Ross. The lieutenant,' again the small,
tight smile, ‘Mr Charles, as we were expected to call him, is still unable to come to terms with what happened. It is like a deep scar. He may never lose it.'

‘I like him very much.' Ross smiled. It had sounded like defiance.

‘In wartime it is sometimes safer to hold friendships at a distance.' Tsao leaned forward and tapped his knee. ‘I admire you for that. Such frankness can be rare.' He smiled again. ‘In wartime!' He stood up. ‘I shall leave you now. Food will be brought soon.'

Ross said, ‘Don't worry about Villiers. He won't let you down.'

Tsao paused by the door, his mind already elsewhere. ‘If we are stopped, you will be taken instantly to the hiding-place. But they have searched this vessel many times, before trust was established, so unless we have an informer . . .' He shrugged. ‘We shall soon know.'

Ross said, ‘What happened to Charles's sister? He's never spoken of her.'

For only an instant, Tsao showed genuine surprise. Then he said in the same controlled voice, ‘She was a very pretty girl. When the soldiers burst into the house, they killed Mr Villiers because he tried to stop them. The soldiers took the girl and raped her.' He put down his pack of cigarettes and Ross saw that his fingers were shaking. ‘They forced her mother to watch.' He bunched his fingers into an obedient fist and added coldly, ‘Then they shot her, too.' He looked straight into Ross's grey eyes. ‘The girl, you were about to ask? I do not know. I never heard of her again.'

Ross said, ‘Thank you.'

Tsao was about to close the door behind him. ‘I have learned something about you, Commander. It is a quality you have, which is rarer even than courage. It is compassion.' He paused. ‘I see now why you lead and others follow.'

The door closed silently.

Ross thought about it for a long time, and realized that he was glad he had been allowed to accompany Villiers on what was, at best, a perilous escapade.

He was surprised also to discover that he was not afraid.

Richard Tsao unbolted the steel door and stood aside to allow the two officers to stumble out into the sunshine. Both were covered in coal-dust, their khaki shirts and slacks plastered to their bodies like filthy skins.

He said, ‘It is safe now.'

Ross rubbed his eyes and felt the coal-grit under his fingers. Although they were well hidden below the tug's bridge structure, the sunlight was blinding. He managed to reply, ‘Thanks. I began to wonder . . .'

He glanced at his companion. Villiers' fair hair was as dirty as his face, but he managed to grin. ‘In this boat, when you
hide
, you really hide!'

Tsao regarded him with the same opaque stare. ‘I am sorry for the delay. It was unusual.' He looked directly at Ross. ‘This time there was an officer with them. Young and eager. He wanted to see everything. Usually it is a formality – they know the
Success
like one of their own.' He glanced up at the tall funnel and the plume of smoke that drifted past the flapping flag of the Rising Sun at the gaff. ‘Which she is, of course.'

He showed no sign of anxiety, any more than when the patrol-boat had been sighted tearing down on them, a great moustache of white foam bursting beneath her stem. He had merely directed them below, to the ‘safe place', a small, cramped addition welded to one of the coal-bunkers. It was right above the boiler-room and it had been like a sealed oven; at times the concealment had been almost unbearable, especially as they did not know what was happening.

Tsao said, ‘You will be able to clean yourselves soon. Tomorrow we will reach Keppel Harbour. Then we shall see.'

Ross glanced up in time to see the tug's master step back from the glass screen. What must he have felt when the Japanese had come aboard? What must he always think when he saw them on his own streets, free to do whatever they liked while his own sister was forced into prostitution?

And how much would it take to make just one of the crew betray them? He stared at the tug-master's clenched fist on the rail, all that was visible now that he had stepped back from view. The fist opened slightly and after the smallest hesitation gave a brief salute, as if it alone had decided upon the gesture. Ross looked at Tsao, and wondered if he had noticed this first small gesture of welcome, or trust. If he had, it did not show in his dark eyes.

In the cabin, Tsao produced a bottle of sake, a gift, he explained, from a previous encounter with a Japanese patrol-vessel. Ross had never tasted it before, and thought it foul, but it helped to ease away the tension of waiting, sweating in the steel box above the boiler-room and straining their ears for every sound.

Tsao said, ‘You must keep out of sight from now on. There will be much shipping and many curious eyes.' As he lit another cigarette, he ticked off the points in the same unemotional manner, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

‘We will go alongside and take on coal. It is a long task as the bunkers are almost empty of everything but dust. It will give us time to go ashore.' He saw Villiers' surprise, and added, ‘I have a permit to use a company car.' He almost smiled; it seemed to amuse him. ‘The Nippon soldier is a great respecter of permits if signed by his own masters.'

‘And then?' Ross hoped he sounded as detached as Tsao.

‘I have some papers for you to see, and some pictures for you to take with you when you leave us.'

Leave us.
An old tug flying the Japanese flag, with patrol-boats and the risk of a stop-and-search exercise at any time of the day: it made the prospect of leaving, even surviving, seem like a fool's dream.

That evening, as a deep gold sunset closed down the visibility, they washed in buckets of steaming water from the engine-room, with a coarse slab of soap which was as black as coal, and reminded Ross of the stuff his father had used to clean the grease and rust from his hands after working on some salvage job or other. What would Villiers' girl say if she could see him now, standing naked while his superior officer washed his back for him? He thought of Victoria Mackenzie. What would she think?

They emptied the buckets over the side, and Villiers pointed. ‘Look. A junk.'

Caught in the last of the golden sunset and framed against the water like a huge bat, the strange-looking craft seemed as timeless as the place itself. Like Richard Tsao: no matter how long it took, or what terrible cost it demanded, he and his sort could wait, and triumph.

Later, after yet another meal of rice and fish and a second bottle of sake, Tsao raised the curtain a little more on what lay ahead.

‘The Germans have been here for a matter of months. But mostly they are in Penang, where they have better facilities. Co-operation between them and the Japanese is poor – the Japanese perhaps resent their intrusion more than they appreciate what they are doing. For their part, the Germans take exception at being treated as anything but the Master Race. They see their ally as inefficient, wasteful of resources and, for the most part, over-confident.' He glanced at his watch. ‘They are not even allowed to wear
their uniforms ashore, something they probably hate more than anything else.'

Villiers asked, ‘And what are they hoping to do there?' Tsao stood. ‘I told you. I will show you.' He gestured to some neatly-folded khaki clothing. ‘There are several sizes. Some should fit you.'

Villiers bent over the pile. ‘What are these?'

‘The same as the Germans wear when they are in town.'

Ross said, ‘If we wore these, and were caught wearing them . . .'

‘You would be treated as spies. Either way, you would die. But then, you knew that before you came to me, yes?'

Villiers said flatly, ‘Yes. We knew.'

Tsao said, ‘I must leave you now. You must try to rest. I do not think you will be disturbed again.'

When they were alone Villiers said, ‘What do you think they're up to?'

‘The Master Race?' It had sounded almost comical, coming from Tsao. ‘The Japs have conquered most of South-East Asia. And only now are they being held by the Americans in the Pacific. I would have thought the last thing the Japs need is advice or military training. It's a different war, a different set of rules.'

Villiers said, half to himself, ‘I don't think I could take being tortured.' He did not look up. ‘Not a very brave thing to admit.'

Ross reached for the sake. Foul though it was, it seemed to help. He could almost hear Mike Tucker saying scornfully,
You shouldn't have joined
. . . He thought, too, of Tsao's summing up.
You lead and others follow.
It was suddenly important that Villiers did not lose the drive that had brought him this far. ‘Think of that girl of yours. Caryl, isn't it?' He watched Villiers look up, saw the effect of her name. ‘She'll be waiting. She just wants to protect you, you
know. Needs you to think of yourself, and not drop your guard around Sinclair, even for a moment.' It was like hearing someone else. What the hell did he know about it? ‘When I was a boy, I thought only brave men won battles, that even if they were killed in action there was something glorious about it.' He looked down at his hands, recalling the feel of her body when he had held her in Pryce's office, and on that last night in the car, when she had kissed him. ‘We know the truth now. War is ugly and brutal, and for the most part death in battle is anything but glorious. Ask any old sweat!'

Villiers said, ‘Then why do we do it?'

‘Because it matters. To those who depend on us, who have to trust us, whether they like us or hate our guts. And for girls like Caryl . . .'

Villiers reached across the table, sharing it. ‘And Victoria.'

The next morning, after a quick meal, they changed into their borrowed clothing while Tsao collected all their personal belongings, identity cards and discs, anything that might betray them. Even their pistols were taken away and placed in a waterproof bag. Tsao allowed them to retain the suicide pills, without any comment. He knew that they understood the consequences of failure, not only for them but for all those found to be involved.

It was a strange, eerie feeling, watching the occasional masthead or stain of funnel-smoke appear briefly above the tug's foredeck as they entered harbour. Maddening not to be able to see what was happening, although they were surrounded by shipping, some moored, others threading their way in or out of the anchorage as if nothing, not even the suffering or devastation of war, would ever change it. Ross was aware of his own excitement, strangely at odds with their circumstances: the sheer sense of anticipation at
entering any foreign country, rather than apprehension at this covert penetration into the midst of a ruthless enemy.

The
Success
sounded her whistle and Ross heard another vessel reply.

If only I could see it.
When he glanced at Villiers he saw that his head was thrown back, as if he too were listening, forming a picture of everything he had once known and loved, which had gone for ever.

Tsao clattered down a ladder from the bridge. ‘We are permitted to go alongside the fuel jetty. My company clerk is waiting, but he will not come aboard.' He looked at each of them in turn. ‘His presence means that we are safe to take up moorings. Tomorrow we shall head north again, for Penang. There I will show you . . .' He broke off as somebody called from the wheelhouse. He ran lightly up the ladder, but was gone for only a minute. He was not even out of breath.