The Chase: One Courageous Skipper Battling The Perilous Evil Out To Destroy Him. (Sea Action & Adventure) (14 page)

Danny parked his inconspicuous Subaru at one of the three parking spaces reserved for the World Trading Co. Ltd of Israel. It was a former residential condominium now transformed into a modest office building. They actually wanted to reserve five parking spaces but it took a lot of weight to get even these three. Traffic at rush hour was awful in this old section of Tel-Aviv, so Danny always made sure to set out very early. It also gave him the opportunity for uninterrupted thoughts before the beginning of a day of crises, panic or general turmoil. Their old, trusted, maternal secretary was already there.

"Happy morning", he hailed at the chubby little woman they called Sylvie, in the greeting reserved only for her.

"Hi, love, coffee has just brewed," she gestured with a warm smile.

The World Trading Co. was home and headquarters for this particular branch of the famed Israeli Agency for National Security, better known as the Mossad. The World Trading Company did actually offer global trade services, and made some money at it too. Five rooms made up the entire company head office. There was a reception desk at the lobby, one conference room and three offices lined with catalogues, wall to wall, floor to ceiling. They were arranged by country, and alphabetically by trade. For a reasonable fee, the Company would provide full information on any trade subject, business, or product anywhere in the world. The Company was adept at specific, in person, on location, inquiries of any relevant commercial issue. And it was a perfect environment for the group to operate in.

Whenever a project was in progress, which was most of the time, the office was active around the clock. It was well-suited to the unit's cover story since they had to synchronize with every time zone around the world.

Operation Squall, which was the name chosen for Avri's snag was eight hours old now. The managing team was composed of three people, following the unity's concept – the smaller the better. The team had a direct line to any government sector, military, police or civilian and needed no authorization for any of its requisitions. That is, once a project had been commissioned.

His two partners had already been working all night.

"I had an early coffee with the Prime Minister. It seems that guy never sleeps".

"Well, you know who sleeps well?" asked H.T., the joker of the group, "it is he who has a clear conscience or no conscience at all".

"No comment, but, whatever, he approved the project. It took several calls all the way from the president of the US down to our ambassador in Greece, but we have a green light all the way until that sub is in Israeli port". Danny announced. "So what is the current situation?"

Ethan was the senior of the two. "Our girl in Greece is on it, and plans to meet the sailor soon. That tracking chip you planted in his boat is working fine, and I was able to give her his exact location. She still has a working cover story from that last project, which will suit this one too. Communicating with her may be a problem. Her radio transmitter is small and weak. She might be out of range most of the time. The boys from Shayetet 13 (13th fleet – the Israeli counterpart of the US Navy Seals) are on their way to Greece by air force transport. Two missile boats are steaming to the Aegean Sea at full speed. I am not sure if we can use them, but the NCC (Navy Chief Commander), suggested they should be there as a backup in any case. There are sixty well trained sailors on each. When I tried to talk him out of it he explained that he searched all the Navy manuals and couldn't find any procedure on stealing submarines, so he is going to devise a strategy of his own".

He turned to HT and asked, "And what’s happening on the Russian front?"

"Not much yet. We have no direct communication with them -only through that American attaché. I don't feel too good with this arrangement, too much delay and too much risk of foul-ups".

"The way I see it, there is one Russian there, and he is quite independent. I'll try to get you a direct line to that American. I believe he is a Marine. They are usually good guys".

Danny got up and concluded the meeting. Next thing, he was on a secure line to the head of the Mossad to ask him if they could establish a direct line to the Russian. The answer was "No, and you’ll have to work under the assumption that you'll never have it,” but the Mossad had issued all the necessary authorizations so Danny's group could rely on full co-operation of everything and everybody the state of Israel has.

He met with the NCC that afternoon. The Navy was the major partner in this project. Danny knew nothing about submarines. He hardly knew anything about boats either for that matter.

"Who is that sailor anyhow?" he asked before Danny had a chance to sit down.

"He is a good guy. I know him from the army. He was a paratrooper. Now he is an engineer, a solid citizen. As of now he knows nothing of this operation. I persuaded him to keep that antenna on board. I surely never expected we'll steal that whole damn submarine."

"I have one of our subs racing to that area in case we have use of it. I hope we'll manage to keep all this under wraps. The Shayetet force, two missile boats and a sub; that’s quite a flotilla to keep concealed."

The NCC was the one who had the authority over anything that happened sea-wise, so they set up a direct line between them, secured of course.

"We need some local boats out there; we can't have Israeli missile boats chasing a Russian submarine in Greek waters. Can you get hold of any?"

"This is what I'm here for," Danny replied with a hint of a smile "To buy fishing boats for the Israeli navy".

The Israeli ambassador to Athens proved very resourceful. He located a group of Israeli actors performing at the Rose Palace in Rhodes. He found it relatively easy to persuade three of them to play the roles of a movie director, a producer and a gofer, and purchase three boats for a movie they were about to shoot on the other side of the island. The commandoes found the boats a good choice. There were two husky trawlers and a thirty foot speedboat. They fueled up and took off to sea well before sunset. It was some 100 nautical miles to Samos.

The sun was rising into the clear blue over the eastern horizon when Avri stepped out into the cockpit. He had had a good night's sleep; the best since he’d met that Russian submarine. It seemed like ages ago.

He gazed idly at the water across the small bay. A young cormorant winged its way across the cove, skimming the morning waters. Avri followed the bird as it soared through the peaceful air and wished it a good catch.

He was well into his second cup of strong black coffee when the Greek's wife appeared at the cottage door, waving him good morning and gesturing him in. He was glad she did.

After breakfast, definitely the best one he had since he landed in Athens, six days ago, he followed the fisherman to the little shack near the water where the Greek proudly unveiled a new Yanmar engine.

"This is for my boat. The old motor is tired. What is your opinion, Mr. Avri?"

He was smiling as Avri inspected the shiny yellow diesel. They had a lot of shop talk about that new power plant. Avri checked the mounting dimensions in the brochure that came with the engine, measured the bolts' setting in the boat and discussed the shaft position. It was well fit for the boat. Avri assumed the Greek had measured and checked everything before he bought that motor and he was pleased to be able to assure him he’d made the right choice.

So they got to work. First, they had to take the old motor out of the boat. Some of the bolts were uncooperative. It took a long lever and all their muscles to release bolts that had rusted in many years ago. By ten o'clock the tired looking old workhorse had left the boat for good. There was some sorrow in the Greek's eyes as they laid it aside.

Next, they started loading the new engine into place. They lowered it into the boat and set it on the engine mounts only to find out it didn't fit. The mounting holes in the engine did not match the bolts in the boat.

"But I measured it very carefully," said the Greek in frustration. "It cannot be". He was baffled. "I cannot understand".

Avri checked the mounting dimensions in the installation manual and measured the holes in the boat once again. They matched, perfectly. Yet the engine didn't fit.

"Look," he beckoned to the Greek, "the manual is wrong. The holes in the motor are not as marked in the book. The book is wrong".

Now the Greek measured the holes, too. "But how can this be? I don't understand".

"Mistakes happen, even in Japan".

The Greek was pretty disheartened "Now what? It took me five months to get this motor here. If I have to return it and wait for a new one, this will be a whole year now".

"Don't despair my friend," Avri said. "I'll stay here and help you. We will find a way to get this engine to play music in your boat. Together we can do it. Let's go, we can make it".

The Greek was still worried, but he smiled and corrected Avri, "the phrase in Greek is ‘to play a song in the boat’ and not ‘music’. It's song and not music".

They started work. It was impossible to change the mounting holes in the engine. They had to work on the boat. Avri sawed two pieces of lumber and constructed a new set of rear engine mounts. They bolted them onto the boats floor securely, careful to keep them flat and parallel to each other and also to the ones at the front. They checked and measured the boards before bolting them down to the bottom of the boat. Avri added three layers of polyester resin and glass cloth which he brought over from the Galatea.

"The polyester has to set, and that will take some five or six hours, so we better leave it for tomorrow".

They settled for an early dinner on the front porch. The food was basic but excellent – a mixture of Fruits De Mer with vegetables and fresh, homemade bread. Avri brought a bottle of Remy Martin from the boat and a couple of thick cigars. The wife enjoyed a small glass of Crème de Menthe.

* * * * *

The girl appeared from nowhere, walking calmly down the hill coming in from the west. She approached smiling and introduced herself as Sophia. Just Sophia, no last name. The wife shook her hand with a wide smile, the men got up hospitably, surprised. The girl had made herself welcomed right away and joined them for the coffee. She came over from Illiaros Island, she said, where she had dumped a long-time love. She had then hired a boat to "get away", and this is where she landed. She wanted to be in harmony with the world, she explained, to "regain her karma", as she put it.

Evidently it was the right place and they were the right people. She was Italian but spoke very good English and even a few words of Greek. She asked to stay for a few days, maybe a week, before she returned to civilization, and would pay for her lodging. The Greeks welcomed the girl, but refused any payment.

"And what about you?" She turned to Avri, "do you approve of having me here for a week"?

"Oh, I am leaving tomorrow. I am just a guest. I'll be sailing away," he said and gestured at his boat.

"Not just a guest," said the Greek, "a good friend too".

"He is from Israel". It was the first time Avri had heard the Greek woman speak English.

"Nice to know," Sophia smiled. "So you are a sailor. Maybe a pirate?" Her laughter rolled across the bay.

Everybody joined in and Avri said, "As that old French movie actor, Charles Boyer once expounded about being the bedroom type of pirate, not the fighting one". They all laughed again. The Greek had to translate this one for his wife, and she giggled shyly.

"Come, I'll make you a bed," the woman said in English again. The girl picked up her small bag and followed her in.

The Greek wanted to add a few lights onto the boat for night fishing so they played Thomas Edison for a while. The Galatea rested motionless in the serene bay. The waters were a dark mirror.

Next morning they mounted the new engine on. The girl watched them, though didn’t get involved in the operation and practically offered no suggestions whatsoever. Avri thought it sort of unusual for an Italian,
but maybe it's because she is a girl
. The new mount fitted well and they bolted down the diesel effortlessly.

They hooked up the electrical wiring and the fuel lines. The fisherman called his wife to come out as he was ready to fire the engine. She stood in respect and admiration of her man, proud of his job.

The new diesel started smoothly. The four of them stood there, enjoying a job well done. The fisherman invited his wife into the boat and they took off on a maiden cruise around their island.

"Look at them. They are like high school lovers, aren't they?"

"They sure are," answered the girl. "I've never seen anything like it".

"And what are you doing here?" she continued.

"I am on vacation".

They were sitting by the water, watching the boat glide out into the open sea.

"I don't think I have ever heard this name – Avri. What does it mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything. Just a name".

"Sounds nice," she said "but then anything in a foreign language sounds nice".

Avri smiled in return.

"Where are you sailing to from here?"

"Primarily to Rhodes. That's the home port of the boat and the end of this year's vacation for me".

"Oh, I thought you are from Israel. Isn't that what the lady said?"

"Yep, I am. I come over here to sail. These are the loves of my life – sailing and my boat," and he glanced affectionately at the Galatea.

* * * * *

"Thanks for this wonderful lunch," Avri gestured to the woman. "I think I'll be leaving tomorrow morning".

She said something to her husband and he repeated in English "She says next time you must come for a week, rest and relax".

"Why, don't I look relaxed now?”

The Greek's look was all the answer he needed.

Sophia left for the waterfront, taking her cup of coffee with her. Avri joined her a few minutes later. As he approached the water's edge he was surprised to hear her talking softly to herself, though she stopped abruptly as he grew near.

"The Greeks like to be by themselves at twilight," he remarked.

Sophia lit a cigarette. They sat there for a while, watching the red sun lowering itself over the horizon. Avri extended his arm and measured how many fingers would fit between the sun and the horizon. "Each finger measures ten minutes to sunset," he answered her questioning gaze, "meaning we have twenty minutes left".

"Say, why don't I join you for a sail tomorrow," she surprised him, "I have never sailed in a yacht before".

Avri hesitated.
What would the Galatea say about it, a girl on board?
That's like cheating on a lover.

Sophia noted the silence, "what is your worry, I don't think I'll get seasick".

"How can you be sure?"

"I have no problems on ferries, had no problem on the small boat that brought me here from Illiaros, and that was at least an hour and a half of sailing, and not too smooth either". She appeared eager to convince him. Her smile was enthusiastic.

"Let's give it a try. Why not? Welcome aboard".

They sailed out after the morning coffee. Avri assured the Greeks he would visit them again the following year. They waved them off from the small jetty.

The bay disappeared into the morning mist.

"This is heavenly," Sophia said as the sails were up, the engine off and the world at peace.

She was sitting at the top of the cabin, her back against the mast, her gaze roaming the far horizon. Avri observed her silhouette against the blue background. It was a beautiful scene, almost poetic. She was extremely attractive, with just the right level of flirtatiousness. She seemed like a promising sailing companion for Avri.

As the morning matured, the skies turned darker. Heavy clouds started appearing on the north and the wind had picked up rapidly. Avri trimmed the sails, reefing the mainsail two points and furling the jib to less than half.

"This is to reduce the load on the sails and the boat," he explained, "we're in for a little storm. If you want to stay out here I had better get you a storm suit before you get soaked through".

"Aye aye Captain," she answered with a smile. "But why don’t I get those suits myself?"

"Sure, why not." He was positively surprised. "It is in the cabin just to the left of the stairs as you walk down. Bring two of them, will you?"

"I'm afraid we're in for a storm, a powerful one," he called over the howling wind."
Let's see what you're made of, lady
.

The wind picked up quickly. The 12-knot breeze which gently guided them out of the bay escalated to 18 and 20 knots by 10 o'clock and kept climbing still. By noon it was over 30 knots and gusting to 45. He furled the jib sail all the way in and reefed the main down to the last point.

Waves rapidly grew high as the wind grew stronger. The boat pitched and rolled - rocking wildly in all directions.

He cranked the motor on and thrust the throttle half forward.

The bow plunged forcefully into the oncoming waves, sending solid sheets of water over the deck. Water gushed into the cockpit, flooding it briefly, then disappearing, draining through the scuppers back to the roaring sea. The wind was deafening and the breakers pounded the hull with frightening thuds. In spite of the storm suits, Avri was getting wet, the splashes sending trickles of cold water down his neck. Pretty soon he was wet through. Sophia was sitting at the corner, her back to the storm and partially protected by the front bulkhead. She seemed as calm as a veteran sea-salt. Avri admired her for that. She sat there, watching him work at the helm, shrugging unperturbed whenever a rogue wave dumped a load of water over her storm cap.

By one o'clock he decided it was too uncomfortable for them both, and a bit dangerous for Sophia. He turned the Galatea around and back to the island. The ride soon became much more comfortable. With the waves and wind coming from astern, the havoc decreased and the ride became faster and much smoother. No more splashes, the pounding stopped and a gentle roll replaced the wild pitching of a few minutes ago. Sophia got up and drew close.

"What happened? Why is this sudden change?" she asked as he dropped his storm hood back off his head.

"We've just changed our course. We are going back to the island. No use fighting this storm head on. We'll sail out tomorrow".

"Do you mean I've just been through a storm? This then was my first storm, and it wasn't all that bad," she laughed.

"Could you take some twenty more hours of it? Non-stop?"

"I could say yes, but I wouldn't want to try it," she said, laughing.

"It is not very wise to attempt to enter an unfamiliar harbor in a storm - there may be reefs and rocks. In calm weather one can sail in cautiously without undue danger. In a storm one must be sure of where he is going."