Between The Hunters And The Hunted by Steven Wilson Read Free Book Online Page A

engines and a slight list to starboard as Firedancer changed course. He smiled at the others and gave them a thumbs-up. They were going after U-boats now.
    Morrison laid the receiver down on the cradle, his face strangely white and pinched with fatigue. He was afraid, Baird knew, maybe not afraid of the enemy or even death, but chances there was some of that for sure. He was afraid of not doing his job and doing it properly—he was afraid of letting his chaps down. Ah, he’s a boy , Baird told himself in a brief moment of understanding, but then the chief torps realized the truth of the matter: there was no place for boys in this business. They came to Andrews all proper and polished, stiff with loyal indignation and clear faces and pressed uniforms. Boys, just boys.
    â€œDepth Charge Party, close up!” Morrison shouted, trying to sound brave. “Captain’s orders. Spread of six at his command. Depth, 150 feet. Baird, see to it. I’ll notify the Y-mounts.”
    â€œYes, sir,” Baird said, digging into his duffel and pulling out the depth-charge-setting key that hung from a chain around his neck. “All right, chaps. Remove the blocks.” Wooden blocks were used to wedge the fuses in place prior to dropping the charges. It prevented premature explosion of the squat drums packed with three hundred pounds of TNT. When that happened it would be a brush and shovel job. If the explosion didn’t sink the ship, that would be the only way to retrieve the bloody pieces of the men’s bodies from the scorched and twisted stern of a smoldering hulk.
    Baird knelt down, inserted the key into the tumbler, and dialed 150 feet. When he stood he noticed the others watching him nervously. They’d never been in battle before. Most where Hostilities Only and they depended on the leadership, wisdom, and just the physical presence of Active Service men like Baird, Engleman, and the others. Even Jimmy the One and Morrison were H.O. And Hardy? Hardy was Active Service and had come out of the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth, but there were too many questions about him. It was said that he’d taken a corvette into some French port and had it out with German tanks but then his nerves began to fail him. No one could say for sure that’s what happened, but the fact that it was even reason for talk belowdecks over a steaming hot cup of kye was cause for concern. Baird and his chaps could forgive anything except a man on the bridge that they did not respect.
    Baird forced himself to laugh. “Is it a wake you’re going to? Why, we’ll have this over in no time and then it’s Splice the Main Brace. Rum is bound to make anyone feel better. Even our own Lord Nelson.”
    Firedancer rolled to starboard again and the deck danced beneath their feet as the engines increased. Then there was a quick turn to port and another shift to starboard.
    â€œWell,” Baird said loudly with a confidence that he did not feel, “the old man has found something, all right. Maybe old George is a proper seaman, after all.”
    There was an explosion a thousand yards on the starboard bow and Baird watched with amazement as a tanker disintegrated in a mass of flames. He could think of nothing else except the word volcano , although he’d never seen one or even a moving picture of one, but he’d heard talk of them and they must surely look like this. The fire was alive and feeding on the ship as if it had been imprisoned at one time within the ship’s hull and now suddenly let loose and wanted to destroy with a vengeance the thing that held it captive. It rolled and licked and boiled high into the air, over the deck and superstructure, and dripped from the ship’s scuppers into the inky water. This must be hell.
    The telephone rang again and Morrison was at it in an instant.
    â€œDepth Charge Station, Morrison.”
    The others waited, watching for any hint of action from