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"Get him up here, now."
Pitt passed on Clark's brusque command, and received a barrage of four-letter words before ringing off.
Less than a minute later, Manny burst through the door reeking of sweat and oil. "Make it quick," he snapped to Clark. "I got a problem."
"Moe has it even worse."
"I already know. The engines have been shut down."
"Are yours in running shape?"
"Why wouldn't they be?"
"The Soviet crew took sledgehammers to every valve on the Ozero Zaysan," said Clark heavily. "Moe says it would take two weeks to make repairs."
"Jack will have to tow him out to sea with the tug," Pitt said flatly.
Manny spat through the wheelhouse door. "He'll never make it back in time to move the oil tanker.
The Russians ain't blind. They'll catch on to the game soon as the sun comes up."
Clark nodded his head in slow understanding. "I fear he's right."
"Where do you stand?" Pitt asked Manny.
"If this tub had diesels, I could start her up in two hours. But she's got steam turbines."
"How much time do you need?"
Manny looked down at the deck, his mind running over the lengthy and complicated procedures.
"We're starting with a dead plant. First thing we did was get the emergency diesel generator going and light off the burners in the furnace to heat the fuel oil. The lines have to be drained of condensation, the boilers fired up, and the auxiliaries put on line. Then wait for the steam pressure to rise enough to operate the turbines. We're looking at four hours-- providin' everything goes right."
"Four hours?" Clark felt dazed.
"Then the Any Bigalow can't clear the harbor before daylight," said Pitt.
"That wraps it." There was a tired
certainty in Clark's voice.
"No, that doesn't wrap it," said Pitt firmly. "If we get even one ship past the harbor entrance we cut the death toll by a third."
"And we all die," added Clark. "There'll be no escape. Two hours ago I'd have given us a fifty-fifty chance of surviving. Not now, not when your old friend Velikov spots his monstrous plan steaming over the horizon. And lest we forget the Soviet colonel sitting on the bottom of the bay, he'll be missed before long and a regiment will come looking for him."
"And there's that captain of the security guards," said Manny. "He'll wise up damned quick when he catches hell for leaving his duty area without proper orders."
The thump of heavy diesel engines slowly amplified outside and a ship's bell gave off three muted rings.
Pitt peered through the bridge windows. "Jack's coming alongside with the tug."
He turned and faced the lights of the city. They reminded him of a vast jewelry box. He began to think of the multitude of children who went to bed looking forward to the holiday celebrations. He wondered how many of them would never wake up.
"There's still hope," he said at last. Quickly he outlined what he thought would be the best solution for reducing the devastation and saving most of Havana. When he finished, he looked from Manny to Clark.
"Well, is it workable?"
"Workable?" Clark was numb. "Myself and three others holding off half the Cuban Army for three hours? It's downright homicidal."
