There was no sign of life On board except one figure lolling at the wheel in the enclosed bridge. The tanker was called Blanche, and the Ant of Antwerp showed at her stern. It stood well out of the water, its deck perhaps twelve feet above the quay. An aged tanker of around ten thousand tons deadweight was secured alongside the top of the T. In front of him the jetty ran twenty yards out into the sea and ended in a T.
#Quaver crossword clue driver
It was the Chinese Negro boss, the driver of the marsh buggy. Round the corner, not more than ten yards away, was the crane. Then Bond sat down and meticulously went over the photograph that was in his brain. If he missed, he would be torn to shreds on the fence. He would have to let go with one arm to stoop and get within range. Apart from aiming the canvas mouth of the conveyor, there was nothing else for anyone to do. On the other side of the mountain men would be working, feeding the guano to the conveyor-belt that rumbled away through the bowels of the rock, but on this side no one was allowed and no one was necessary. There was no other sound, no other movement, no other life apart from the watch at the ship's wheel, the trusty working at the crane, and Doctor No, seeing that all went well. The morning breeze feathered the deep-water anchorage, still half in shadow beneath the towering cliffs, the' conveyor-belt thudded quietly on its rollers, the crane's engine chuffed rhythmically. He caught a glimpse of the tip of his spear lancing into the centre of a black eyeball and then the whole sea erupted up at him in a fountain of blackness and he fell and hung upside down by the knees, his head an inch from the surface of the water. He was ready.īond let his whole body slip down the ladder of wire and lunged through and down with all his force. He stood up and took several slow deep breaths, ran his hands through his salt-and sweat-matted hair, rubbed them harshly up and down his face and then down the tattered sides of his black jeans.
He reached back ana felt the handle of the knife. There was one hope, only oneīond examined the soles of his feet and his hands. Now the eyes and the great triangular beak were right out of the water and the beak was reaching up for his feet.
He could even feel his spine being stretched. Bond was being pulled down, inch by inch. The eyes were glaring up at him, redly, venomously, and the forest of feeding arms was at his feet and legs, tearing the cotton fabric away and flailing back. Now the head of the squid had broken the surface and the sea was being thrashed into foam by the great heaving mantle round it. A narrow rocky track, made by the feet of the workers, led down the other side and round the bulge of the cliff.īond had not time to worry about them. But softly, gently, slowly The prize was almost intolerably sweet. Slowly, a thin, hard smile broke across the haggard, sunburned face. Bond reached for the top cable and frantically began to edge along the swaying fence towards the rocky headland twenty yards away.īond sat and thought, measuring distances, guessing at angles, remembering exactly where the crane driver's hands and feet were on the levers and the pedals.
To build the wire fence the men must have come from the left, from the direction of the jetty. Left was towards the ship, but also towards Doctor No. Then don't wait Get away quick Wildly Bond looked to right and left. Nothing, nothing but the spreading stain of black.
But where was the squid? Would it come back? Bond searched the sea.
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