Dive in the Sun by Douglas Reeman

sob.
    He saw the vessel sheer away, and heard the grate of metal along the hull, as the casing ground against one of the buoys. A final jerk, which made Taylor gasp and cling more fiercely to the wheel, and then they were curving round, away from the net. They were through.
    ‘In!’ said Curtis. He couldn’t trust his voice for more.
    Duncan spoke from between his teeth, ‘Well, there’s no turning back now, is there?’
    ‘Was there ever?’ Jervis was massaging his raw hands and watching Duncan curiously.
    Duncan laughed shortly. ‘Could be, Ian. Could be.’
    At minimum speed the boat prowled across the harbour, while Curtis hurriedly checked the chart and measured the distances between the piers and jetties. Jervis knelt at his side, studying Curtis’s quick, skilful movements.
    ‘You did that for
me
, didn’t you, Skipper? You didn’t want me to go out and cut another net?’ He spoke very quietly and saw Curtis stiffen.
    Curtis turned his face so that they were only inches apart. ‘Questions! Nothing but damn questions! For Christ’s sake shut up and let me get on with my job!’
    Jervis coloured, and lowered himself shakily to the deck. Duncan glanced casually at him and shrugged. ‘A hard life, ain’t it?’
    Curtis twisted a pencil between his strong fingers and closed his eyes tightly, forcing his reeling thoughts to grapple with the attack. Jervis, the young fool! Did he really think I wanted to make it easier for him? Hadn’t it occurred to him that I can’t stand the suspense of waiting any longer? Steve knew. He sees right through me. He knows I can’t hold out much longer.
    He crawled back to the periscope and raised it cautiously, thinking as he did so how quiet it seemed in the boat.
    The long grey finger of the loading jetty lay before him, its sharp outline broken in places by the bulky shapes of moored vessels. They passed softly down the side of a high freighter, a dim arc-lamp giving him a quick view of some army lorries lashed across her decks. The lamplight filtered across the water in a pale silver sheen, too weak to endanger the tiny black stick which moved so purposefully through the uneasy, lapping wavelets.
    They don’t seem to be very worried about the blackout here, he thought absently; perhaps the Allied invasion has been delayed. Surely something must be happening in the south by now. ‘Damn!’ He pressed the button as another patrol boat chugged slowly amongst the ships. Some uniformed figures squatted around a small gun on the boat’s foredeck, their uniform buttons glinting under the arc-lamp.
    He listened to the engine fading away, and Taylor began to whistle softly between his teeth.
    Curtis took another quick look and edged the boat even closer to the nearest merchantman.
    The submarine sank like a sounding whale, and dipped under the ship’s fat bilge, scraping the sand and muck on the harbour bottom, and once, with a sharp metallic screech, actually colliding with the stonework of the jetty.
    Silently the boat settled on the bottom and the engine died away.
    ‘We there?’ Duncan sat back heavily in his small seat.
    ‘The dock is about fifty feet ahead of us.’
    Curtis’s words dropped like pebbles in a still pool. He waited while each of the crew digested them.
    ‘What’ll we do, Skipper?’ Jervis suddenly checked himself, afraid that Curtis would turn on him again. But his captain merely looked at him unseeingly and bit his lip.
    ‘There doesn’t seem to be much water here.’ Duncan spoke slowly, as if he, too, were being cautious. ‘If that flamin’ dock is a bit low in the water, we might find it a bit of a squeeze!’
    ‘We’re going in now! We’ve got to drop a charge at each end of the target, to make quite sure!’ He turned to Jervis. ‘Get into the “W and D”, Ian; you might have to go out and assist things in a minute.’
    The submarine moved forward once more. Curtis counted off the seconds, visualizing the giant, factory-shaped