Assignment - Sulu Sea Read Online Free PDF Page B

learned of the missing
sub, Mr. Durell. It seems impossible for you to have heard about it in any
casual manner.”
    Durell thought of Willi in her shorts. “It was casual,
gentlemen, but I cannot tell you more about it.”
    “One of these days,” the admiral said icily, “you gumshoe
boys will go too far with us and—”
    “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been directed to cooperate with you in
every way. In fact, I‘ve been ordered to find your missing submarine as
soon as possible."
    The scrambled eggs on the admiral’s cap sizzled. “Find our
sub for us? Of all the impudence—!”
    “It’s missing and you can’t locate her, right?”
    “If you fellows don’t make your usual mess out of the
affair, we’ll find her, all right.” An aide touched the admiral’s elbow
and whispered urgently to him, his eyes suspiciously watching Durell’s tall,
quiet figure all the time. The admiral started to protest, and then his
angry color faded and s look of resigned desperation took its place. He shook
off the aide and turned back to Durell.
    “We understand the political balance in Borneo is extremely
delicate just now. And in the independent Sultanate of Pandakan, capital of the Tarakutas and Borneo, it’s even more critical. There
is to be a plebiscite for the natives to decide whether they’re to join
Indonesia or Malaysia or form an autonomous Republic of Tarakuta. All U.N. members
are warned not to interfere, and our Seventh Fleet units are forbidden by
Washington to enter the waters off Indonesian Borneo, Sabah or Sarawak.”
    “Yes, sir, that is correct,” Durell said.
    For one of the rare moments in his life, the admiral was
helpless. “I protest, of course. If one of my ships is in trouble, I demand the
right, by all the laws of decency and common sense, to find that missing
ship." The admiral’s aide whispered to him for a moment, his manner
urgent. The other officers looked with hostility at Durell, as if their problem
were his fault. The admiral grunted. “It will be a day or two before we
announce a routine ‘maneuver’ on the fringes of that area, and even that will
excite the world press. But it can’t be helped. We cannot sit on our hands when
the 727 is missing. And we will send our own people into the Borneo area. So
you can cable your boss in Washington that your help is declined, with thanks.”
    “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”
    “Eh? Why not?”
    “I've already been given the job. I can go into the offshore
waters of Borneo without attracting quite as much attention as a Seventh Fleet
search flotilla. I understand I have three days to find the 727.
After that, a public statement must be issued about her disappearance. But I
must say that whether you cooperate or not, gentlemen,” Durell said quietly, “I
mean to go ahead with my own assignment.”
     
    Willi Panapura was not in his apartment when he went back
there. But he was not alarmed. He put through a long-distance call to Bayou
Peche Rouge, in Louisiana, and while he waited for the mainland connection, he
watched the beach and the surfers and marveled at the energy of the half-naked
boys and girls battling the Pacific rollers in the sparkling sun. Then,
before his connection was made, Willi Panapura returned and he forgot all about
the scanty bikinis and the tumbling torsos out there on the beach.
    Willi was not wearing her short shorts now; she was dressed
for traveling, and her long. thick hair was coiled in a tight, smart French
swirl atop her proud and beautiful head. She wore a white sharkskin traveling
suit and French heels that brought her eyes almost to a level with Durell’s.
    Her golden Polynesian skin and blue, wide gaze was effective
and dramatic. He thought, with some dismay, that she was the roost beautiful
and most unpredictable girl he had ever met.
    His grandfather, Jonathan, lived on the hulk of the old
sidewheeler Three Belles , which
Durell had called home as a boy, and it took some time to bring the