"MacDonnell, J E - 125 - Blind Into Doom UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacDonnell J E)

hull. If he continues down this side of the convoy, looking towards it
and away from us..."
Fawcett had a close-shaven, manicured, gentle and almost
effeminate look about him. He did not always look like that, either.
"If we alter course at once, sir," he said in a slightly quickened
tone, "we might get in close enough for the four-inch. Even if we
only damaged him he'd have to turn back."
With the convoy making a large alteration of course to throw-off
any U-boats, Duncan mentally cemented his decision. No need to
kill: just one shell bursting close enough would do it. He swung.
"Starb'd thirty, Pilot, increase to thirty knots. Guns, warn the
four-inch.
Ten thousand tons takes time to swing. While she was about it
Duncan had the Condor in his glasses and Warwick's manoeuvre in
his mind. She was turning away from east towards south. Now the
plane was on her port bow but still heading for the convoy, and still
between it and Warwick. Plainly they had not been sighted else the
German would have banked at once away from those deadly twin-
- J.E. Macdonnell: Blind Into Doom Page 16 -



barrelled four-inch. The remissness of the plane's crew was
understandable-every man would be staring down at what had been
found; counting, identifying, gloating. Thirty-eight ships, loaded to
the plimsoll with cargoes beyond price, their fat bellies simply waiting
to be ripped open by torpedoes.
On the other hand, Warwick was only temporarily
unsighted. Already her wake was piled up high, and the bow-
waves. She was leaving a big white trail. From up there it must be
standing out like a shout. Just one glance to the northward, from one
German, and her detection was certain.
But he had only a few minutes granted him, and every second
had to be used to get his guns in range; and they must be fired before
the plane turned left to pass round the rear of the convoy.
Duncan glanced at the speed log. Its needle was creeping past
25. Good girl, he thought, feeling through his feet the shaking power
of her. She had 80,000 horsepower in her eight boilers, and Chief
would be using most of that to get her up quickly.
Duncan looked aft past the Walrus amphibian on its catapult to
the high-angle director. The steel box, young brother to the main-
armament director above his head, was pointed at the plane. And
below it the four grey barrels on the port side of the four-inch gundeck
were aimed in the same direction, with their oily snouts cocked up
to maximum effective elevation.
Before raising his binoculars again he glanced at Fawcett.
"Any minute now, sir," the gunnery officer drawled. Duncan
hoped he was speaking metaphorically and not literally. An actual
minute must see them sighted.
Leading-Seaman Lusby was feeling the same fearing impatience.