On a bedstead striped with bright-blue paint,

who's supposed to be on watch. . . . Anything on your mind, Captain?" "Yes. What were your instructions for to-night?" "Just to set you blokes down in Castelrosso when it was good and dark." The pilot paused, then said frankly, "I don't get it. A ship this size for only five men and a couple of hundred odd pounds of equipment. Especially to Castelrosso. Especially after dark. Last plane that came down here after dark just kept on going down. Underwater obstructiondunno what it was. Two survivors." "I know. I heard. I'm sorry, but I'm under orders too. As for the rest, forget itand I mean forget. Impress on your crew that they mustn't talk. They've never seen us." The pilot nodded glumly. "We've all been threatened with court-martial already. You'd think there was a ruddy war on." "There is. . . . We'll be leaving a couple of cases behind. We're going ashore in different clothes. Somebody will be waiting for our old stuff when you get back." "Roger. And the best of luck, Captain. Official secrets, or no official secrets, I've got a hunch you're going to need it." "If we are, you can give us a good send-off." Mallory grinned; "Just set us down in one piece, will you?" "Reassure yourself, brother," said the pilot firmly. "Just set your mind at ease. Don't forgetI'm in this ruddy plane too." The clamour of the Sunderland's great engines was still echoing in their ears when the stubby little motorboat chugged softly out of the darkness and nosed alongside the gleaming hull of the flying-boat. There was no time lost, there were no words spoken; within a minute the five men and all their gear had been embarked; within another the little boat was rubbing to a stop against the rough stone Navy jetty of Castelrosso. Two ropes went spinning up into the darkness, were caught and quickly secured by practised hands. Amidships, the rust-scaled iron ladder, recessed deep into the stone, stretched up into the star-dusted darkness above: as Mallory reached the top, a figure stepped forward out of the gloom. "Captain Mallory?" "Yes." "Captain Briggs, Army. Have your men wait here, will you? The Colonel would like to see you." The nasal voice, peremptory in its clipped affectation, was far from cordial. Mallory stirred in slow anger, but said nothing. Briggs sounded like a man who might like his bed or his gin, and maybe their late visitation was keeping him from either or both. War was hell. They were camera digital pc usb back in ten minutes, a third figure followIng behind them. Mallory peered at the three men standing on the edge of the jetty, identified them, then peered around again. "Where's Miller got to?" he asked. "Here, boss, here." Miller groaned, eased his back off a big, wooden bollard, climbed wearily to his feet. "Just restin', boss. Recuperatin', as you might say, from the nerve-rackin' rigours of the trip." "When you're all quite ready," Briggs said acidly, "Matthews here will take you to your quarters. You are to remain on call for the Captain, Matthews. Colonel's orders." Briggs's tone left no doubt that he thought the Colonel's orders a piece of arrant nonsense. "And don't forget, Captaintwo hours, the Colonel said." "I know, I know," Mallory said wearily. "I was there when he said it. It was to me he was talking. Remember? All right, boys, if you're ready." "Our gear, sir?" Stevens ventured. "Just leave it there. Right, Matthews, lead the way, will you?" Matthews led the way along the jetty and up interminable flights of steep, worn steps, the others following in Indian file, rubber soles noiseless on the stone. He turned sharply right at the top, went down a narrow, winding alley, into a passage, climbed a flight of creaking, wooden stairs, opened the first door in the corridor above. "Here you are, sir. I'll just wait in the corridor outside." "Better wait downstairs," Mallory advised. "No offence, Matthews, but the less you know of this the better." He followed the others into the room, closing the door behind him. It was a small, bleak room, heavily curtained. A table and half a dozen chairs took up most of the space. Over in the far corner the springs of the single bed creaked as Corporal Miller stretched himself out luxuriously, hands clasped behind his head. "Gee!" he murmured admiringly. "A hotel room. Just like home. Kinda bare, though." A thought occurred to him. "Where are all you other guys gonna sleep?" "We aren't," Mallory said briefly. "Neither are you. We're pulling out in less than two hours." Miller groaned. "Come on, soldier," Mallory went on relentlessly. "On your feet." Miller groaned again, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked curiously at Andrea. The big Greek was quartering the room