"Woods, Stuart - Run Before The Wind" - читать интересную книгу автора (Woods Stuart)

"Ahh, now I get the picture. You're a yachtsman. That's it, isn't it?
You're looking for a pleasant sail home in a rich man's yacht.

We take aboard her skipper, who's probably got all of a case of the
trots, and you sail off into the sunset."

Martindale flushed.

"Sir, we don't really have a choice, do we?"

He waited anxiously while the captain stared at the deck and worked his
jaw.

"Shit," the captain said, finally.

"All right. Come onto a parallel course with her and stop; she'll
catch up to us. As soon as I get my pants on I'll take the con, and
you take two men and get the motor launch over the side. She's wearing
a VHP antenna. Call me on channel 16 when you're aboard her." The
captain turned toward his cabin.

"Thank God there's not much of a sea running," he could be heard to say
from down the corridor.

Martindale's heart leapt.

"Hard left rudder!" he shouted at the seaman.

"All back!"

Martindaie sat at the yacht's chart table, suddenly exhausted, and
stared about him. She was beautiful, a dream of oiled teak and
polished brass; of able design and perfect proportion; of the finest
gear for every task on deck and below. The ship's log lay before him,
open to the last completed page. He read for a few minutes, feeling
sick and angry, then reached up and switched on the VHP radio, set it
to channel 16, and pressed the transmit button.

"Byzantium, Byzantium, Byzantium; this is Martindaie, Martindale,
Martindaie. Do you read?" He released the button.

The captain's voice shot back over the crackle of static.

"I read you, Martindaie. Never mind the fucking procedure, what the
hell's going on on that boat?"

Martindaie took a deep breath and pressed the transmit button again.

"Everything seems to be in perfect order, captain, as far as I can
tell." He paused.