The Red Alert Story

The Red Alert Story.
by Gareth Bird

CHAPTER VIII
Several hours passed, and after two light meals were prepared for the sailors and their 'hosts', the cooks returned to their cabin. By this time, Jack too had been relieved of his 'duties' and was resting in a cabin which he and the others had taken for themselves. For once, Jack found himself able to sleep, or at least rest, rather easily. He had come to terms with the fact that they were going to try to swing the war back into Allied favour, even if it meant disobeying Rodgers.

After some time resting, it was soon Jack's turn to keep guard in the main control room of the submarine. When he arrived, Davies, Black, Gower and Rigg were already there. However, Jack wasn't concentrating on who was there on his side, he was more concerned with the actions of his enemies, for he saw that a Soviet sailor was busy taking into a microphone.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I thought Walden said no communications." he said ironically.

"It's OK." replied Gower. "It's just a sort of status report." he informed, taking a glance around him in case there was someone else he'd missed."

"Well how d'you know he's not reporting that the ship's been taken over by a bunch of British mercenaries?" questioned Jack.

"They're not." answered Black. "I speak a little Russian. Not much - but enough to know that they are talking about fuel consumption and weapon status or something."

"Oh." said Jack, a little surprised. "Good." he finished.

A few minutes later, a young sailor entered the room at the permission of his seniors. He nodded politely at his captors as he walked slowly by and started to talk quite quickly, and quietly, to the Communications Officer, who had by now finished transmitting his report to the rest of the fleet.

"What's he saying?" asked Rigg.

"I, er," started Black, but it was clear he had no intention of answering as he was focused on the rest of the conversation. The Communications Officer looked back at the man talking to him, before turning to Jack and the others. He swivelled around to face the other direction as he spoke to another man. Gower let off a loud whistle and indicated that he wanted him to turn back and face them.

"What's the problem?" repeated Rigg.

"I think," started Black, still staring at the men in front of them, "I think there's some problem with the internal radio or something. I don't know." he reported. Rigg clicked his fingers sharply and the Russian conversation stopped. He pointed first at the Communication's Officer, and then to Black. He nodded and stood up to talk to him.

After a few minutes of translation and confirmations, Black informed the others that there was a problem with the cooling system in one of the engine rooms. Either that, or it was a problem with the heating. According to the Russians, one of the men should go and take a look.

"What about the radio?" asked Rigg. Black shrugged.

"I don't know, I must have been wrong. It's an easy enough mistake to make!" he admitted.

"I'll go." suggested Jsck immediately, "and I'll wake up Dunn in case we need translations." He turned to leave with the man who had entered the room and followed him suspiciously. "You lot stay here!" he called as he left the room.

"Will do." was a response. The Soviet soldier, according to Dunn, was definitely Russian, as opposed to a man from any of the other surrounding states. He was quite short and scruffy with slight stubble and a mop of hair protruding from beneath his well-oiled cap. He turned enthusiastically every few steps as if to encourage Jack and Dunn to follow, who did so without persuasion. Eventually they got into a room which hit Jack.

It was so hot. There was another man working while Taylor sat and watched. "About bloody time too!" he blurted, standing up and wiping his face on a rag. "It's like an oven in here!" he reported, as if it was necessary. He pointed up to a pipe which ran along the side of the room, which, was at best, 'weathered' as he described and in one place a full crack was revealed from under another rag, which upon its removal turned what was a high pitched whistle of air into an loud, irritating gale.

"How'd this happen?" asked Jack of the sailor.

"Fuck knows." muttered Taylor, inaudibly.

Dunn translated after suggesting to Jack that instead of instinctively facing the man as he spoke, but to face himself so that he had a chance of hearing what Jack had said.

Jack watched with Taylor as the man vividly described something with an array of arm signals, which were emphasised by his comrades. Dunn was shaking his head a lot and before making his report, tried to cover an escaping yawn by wiping his face on his sleeve.

"I'm not really sure." he replied, finally. "He said something about it being damaged when that thing was installed." he continued, pointing at the large machine which took up the majority of the room. "I couldn't really understand his dialect too much, what with the noise as well. They say they can fix it with some more stuff from the stores." Jack looked at Taylor, who just shrugged. "Can I go back now?" asked Dunn.

"Yeah." replied Jack. "Yeah, you go and get your kip - you'll probably need it." Dunn nodded and left, squeezing through the doorway which was partially blocked by one of the submarine's crew. Taylor picked up and shook a wrench and screwdriver from a box, and nodded towards the gash in the pipe.

The sailor nodded, then pointed out of the room and down the corridor. "I'll go with him and get what he needs." volunteered Taylor, glad of the opportunity to escape the steam-filled room, and led his political enemy to the stores. Jack was left with a couple of men, one of whom went about his business, apparently cleaning some of the equipment. The other man reapplied the rag to the wounded pipe before turning to face Jack, smiling and wiping his hands down his well-used overalls.

He extended an arm in Jack's direction. "Mikovic." he uttered. Jack appreciated the gesture made by this humble man towards his captors yet found it inappropriate to recipricate with a handshake. After all, although they were mere men who, in different circumstances may well have been friends, they were still sworn enemies and the confinements of their environment gave no excuse for a change in opinion. Jack simply nodded at Mikovic, who looked a little disheartened and returned his arm to his side.

Jack wiped his face again and poked his head around the door for a breath of fresher air. He felt a tap on his shoulder and whirled around, rifle extended at arm's length, to see Mikovic, arms raised slightly and mumbling something. Jack lowered his weapon and Mikovic hesitantly produced a chained watch from the inside pocket of his overalls. He snapped open the cover and pointed inside. On the inside of the cover was a small photograph of what was presumably the man's family. The glass front had split with a large crack down its middle. On the other side was the clockface, to which Jack shifted his attention.

Mikovic tapped the face, before pointing at himself and the other man in the room. Jack nodded and looked out of the room again. Presently, Taylor returned with the first man with a toolbox of spare parts. "What's all that lot for?" asked Jack.

"Search me." shrugged Taylor, casting an eye on Mikovic. "What's his problem?" he asked as he tapped his watch again.

"Clocking off time, I think." replied Jack.

"Yeah, well, tell him he's not going until this place has been fixed." suggested Taylor.

"As if I can speak Russian." informed Jack. "D'you really want to go and wake up Dunn again?"

Taylor didn't answer. He just pointed at the man's watch and shook his head, then pointed at the damaged pipe and nodded. Mikovic pointed at his watch again, but Taylor just stared back at him. He muttered something neither Briton could comprehend before unloading some of the tools, scratching his head and set about trying to repair the pipe.

"Are you OK here?" asked Jack, eager to leave the sweatshop to which he had found himself unwillingly attached. "I mean, am I alright to go back to the main room?"

"Yeah, go on. You clear off and leave me to shed a few pounds in here." joked Taylor. Jack smiled and left, glad of the opportunity to cool down.


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