I tiptoed round the forecastle, looking into every bunk, but found no one else. I got back to Geordie and shook my head.

He said loudly, 'All right, let's wake up the sleeping beauty.'

The man snored again, drawing back his upper lip.

Geordie shook him by the shoulder. 'Come on, chum. Prepare to meet thy doom.' The man opened his eyes and looked up uncomprehendingly and then Geordie hit him on the chin with a fist like a hammer.

He rubbed his knuckles and said, a little apologetically, 'I never like to hit a sleeping man. It seems a bit unfair somehow.'

I looked at the seaman. He was out cold.

Geordie looked round the forecastle again. 'Nine a side. They pack eighteen in here. The Board of Trade would never allow this back home. Right, let's see what else there is. The next one might be the lucky draw, Mike.'

He took the wedge out of the door and opened it carefully. We checked all the compartments we came across, even the toilets. 'Nothing like catching a man with his pants down,' Geordie chuckled.

We found nothing.

The ship rocked a little more heavily and we both stiffened but there was no hue and cry and we carried on slowly until suddenly there was a shadow at the end of the passage and Taffy came into sight. He was eating an apple.

Geordie sniffed. 'Look at that. You'd think he'd get fatter, wouldn't you? He was just the same in the army – holding the war up while he rammed himself full.' There were two cabins remaining between ourselves and Taffy and we each investigated one, with negative results.

'What did you get?' demanded Geordie.

Taffy crunched on his apple. 'Ian put one laddie to sleep -he wasn't Kane and not big enough by all accounts to be Hadley.'

'Damn! The bastards aren't here, then. We got another-that's seven.'

'One in the bows and we got two more, skipper,' Taffy said. 'That's seven on board.'

Geordie began to calculate. 'There's no less than fifteen getting boozed up ashore – that makes twenty-two. And there's eight at the hotel – that's thirty.'

'The ship's over-crewed,' said Taffy with the air of one making a profound statement.

'So is a battleship,' snapped Geordie. 'And that's what this is. They wouldn't need all this crowd just to handle the ship. Where's Jim?'

'In the engine room.'

'Good. You nip up on deck and keep watch. I don't think any of the officers will be coming back now, but the crew will, and Ramirez might come back for a check-up.'

We went aft and found Ian breaking open a desk in one of the bigger cabins. I was about to protest when I realized that it hardly mattered what we did now, short of murder. 'Ramirez lives here,' he told us.

The desk gave us nothing of interest or use and we glanced through his clothing quickly. It was elegant and extensive for shipboard life. 'Have you found our birds?' Ian asked as we worked.

'Neither of them,' I said. 'We've slipped up on this one. Campbell is going to be mad.'

Ian was disconsolate. 'My mannie wasn't Hadley. He had a black beard,' he said.

Geordie pricked up his ears. 'Are you sure it wasn't him, or Kane, in a disguise?'

'Na, na,' said Ian. 'It was too long. Kane couldn't have grown it in the time, and Hadley was clean-shaven. And it was real – I pulled it.'

I was looking down and saw Geordie peeling back the carpet, revealing a recessed ring-bolt. 'What's down there?' I asked.

'We can soon find out.' He grasped the ring-bolt and pulled, opening a trap-door. He pulled a torch from his pocket and flashed it down the hole.

'Christ!' he said, and pulled out a sub-machine gun.

We looked at it in silence, and then Geordie said, 'I told you this was a flaming battleship.'

'Let's see what else there is,' I said.

Five minutes later we were surrounded by enough weapons to start a small war. There were four sub-machine guns, fifteen rifles of assorted pattern, half a dozen pistols and a dozen hand grenades.

I summoned up a laugh. 'I wonder what Chamant would have thought of this little lot? He nearly had heart failure at the sight of our four pistols.' But I was feeling a little sick, looking at our haul and my hands, which had been fine up to that moment, were sweating slightly.

Geordie said thoughtfully, 'You were a pretty good armourer in your time, Ian. How would you put this lot out of action?'

'With the bolt-action rifles you just throw the bolts away. With the others, we smash the firing pins.'

'Why not throw the lot overboard?' I asked.

Geordie cocked his head at me. 'We'll do that too. But this mob will then do some skin-diving and I want it to be a wasted effort. Get cracking, Ian, as fast as you can. We've spent enough time here.'

We were ready for leaving fifteen minutes later after carefully dropping the useless guns over the side, with a minimum of splashing. Ian was rolling the last of the bolts he'd taken from the rifles into torn strips of cloth and stuffing them into his pockets. We were about to leave when Taffy suddenly held up a hand. 'Quiet,' he said softly.

We were very still and though I listened hard I couldn't hear anything. Taffy said, 'There's a boat coming.'

Then I heard the faint creak of rowlocks and the splash of oars. I looked anxiously towards Geordie.

'We take them,' he decided. 'We can't have the game given away too soon.' He issued quick instructions and the men spread themselves into the deck shadows. There was a soft bump as the boat reached the boarding ladder, on the other side from our own exit, and a few moments later I saw the outline of a man against the night sky. There was only one man and as he came aboard I drew in my breath sharply.

It was Kane.

'He's my meat,' I murmured to Geordie, who gave me the thumbs up. I moved forward in a crouch. Kane walked forward along the deck and just as he passed me I straightened up and gave him a tap on the shoulder. He turned and I let him have it, as hard as I could to the jaw. Ian tapped him on the head with something as he started to collapse and all in one movement, as it seemed, rolled him into a piece of canvas. Geordie looked over the railings and saw that Kane had been alone in the dinghy. 'That'll get us off the hook with Campbell,' he said with satisfaction.

'I'm not so sure of that,' I said, rubbing my sore knuckles. 'We can't take Kane to the police now. They wouldn't look at all kindly on our methods, and if they find out what we've done to this ship we're for it, right on our side or not.'

'You've said better than you know, Mike,' Geordie concurred. 'We'll leave here right away- and we'll take Mr Kane with us.'

We piled into our boat and pulled for Esmerelda, and as we passed under the stern of Ramirez's ship I looked up and saw her name painted there – Sirena. Halfway across the harbour I had a sudden thought. 'Geordie, what was Jim doing in the engine room?'

'Nothing much,' he said. Jim grinned briefly in the half-light and I was about to speak to him direct when Geordie interrupted me. 'Heave, you bloody pirates – we haven't much time.' He seemed in a devil of a hurry.

As we climbed the bulwarks of Esmerelda I suddenly remembered that Jim Taylor had made a name for himself as a demolitions expert during the war. I hadn't time to develop this thought because Campbell was on to me in a rage.

'What in hell is going on?'

I found I'd stopped sweating and felt very calm. No doubt the reaction would set in later. 'A little bit of direct action,' I said coolly.

Geordie was already giving orders in a quiet bellow. 'Get that bloody engine started up. Slip all lines bar the bow-line. Get that dinghy up smartly now.' The deck was astir with movement.

'You damned fools! You'll get us all gaoled,' Campbell was raging.

'Better gaoled than dead,' I said. 'You don't know what we found on that damned ship.'