Once outside, the brilliant Mediterranean moon enveloped his body and laid bare the landscape with an eerie ghost-like emptiness. The sky was all studded with stars and revealed the milky way in a great white design across a black velvet backdrop.
Pitt strolled down the path from the Officers’ Quarters toward the main gate. He paused for a minute, looking at the vacant runway, and he noticed a black area every so often in the rows of multi-colored lights that stitched the edges. Several of the lights in the signal system must have been damaged in the attack, he thought. However, the general pattern was still readable to a pilot making a night landing.
Behind the intermediate lights, he could make out a dark outline of the PBY, sitting forlornly on the opposite side of the apron like a nesting duck. The bullet damage to the Catalina’s hull turned out to be slight and the Flight Line Maintenance crew promised that they would begin repairs first thing in the morning, the restoration taking three days. Colonel James Lewis, the base commanding officer, had expressed his apologies at the delay, but he needed the bulk of the maintenance crew to work on the damaged jets and the remaining C-133 Cargomaster. In the meantime, Pitt and Giordino elected to accept the Colonel's hospitality and stay at Brady Field, using the First Attempt’s whale boat to commute between the ship and shore. The last arrangement worked to everyone’s advantage since living quarters aboard the First Attempt were cramped and at a premium.
“Kind of early for a swim, isn’t it, buddy?”
The voice snapped Pitt from his thoughts, and he found himself standing under the white glare of floodlights that were perched on top of the guard’s shack at the main gate. The shack sat on a curb-lined island that divided the incoming and outgoing traffic and was just large enough for one man to sit in. A short, burly looking Air Policeman stepped from the doorway and eyed him closely. “I couldn’t sleep.”
As soon as he said it, Pitt felt foolish for not being more original But what the hell, he thought, it’s the truth.
“Can’t say as I blame you,” said the AP. “After all that’s happened today, I’d be real surprised if anyone on the base was sound asleep.” The mere thought of sleep triggered a reflex, and the AP yawned.
“You must get awfully bored, sitting out here alone all night,” said Pitt.
“Yeah, it gets pretty dull,” the AP said, hooking one hand in his Sam Browne belt and resting the other on the grip of a.45 Colt automatic, clinging to his hip. “If you’re going off base, you’d better let me see your pass.”
“Sorry, I don’t have one,” Pitt had forgotten to ask Colonel Lewis for a pass to get on and off Brady Field.
A swaggering, tough look crossed the AP’s face. “Then you’ll have to go back to the barracks and get It.” He swatted at a moth that flapped by his face, toward a floodlight.
“That would be a waste of time. I don’t even own a pass,” said Pitt, smiling helplessly.
“Don’t play dumb with me, buddy. Nobody gets in or out of the gate without a pass.”
“I did.”
The AP’s eyes became suspicious. “How did you manage that?”
“I flew In.”
A surprised look bit the AP. His eyes beamed in the brightness of the floods. Another passing moth lit on his white cap, but he did not notice it. Then it burst from him. “You’re the pilot of that Catalina flying boat!”
“Guilty as charged,” said Pitt.
“Say, I want to shake your hand.” The AP’s lips opened in a big tooth displaying smile. “That was the greatest piece of flying I’ve ever seen.” He thrust out a massive hand.
Pitt took the outstretched hand and winced. He had a strong grip of his own, but it seemed puny compared to the AP’s. “Thank you, but I’d have felt a lot better about it if my opponent had crashed.”
“Oh hell, he couldn’t have gone far. That old junk pile was smoking up a storm when it crossed over the hills.”
“Maybe It crashed on the other side?'
“No chance. The colonel had the whole Air Police squadron chasing all over the island in jeeps, looking for it. He searched until dark, but didn’t spot a thing.” He appeared disgusted. “What really pissed me off was getting back to the base too late for the chow line.”
Pitt grinned. “It must have gone down in the sea, or else made the mainland before falling.”
The AP shrugged his shoulders. “Could be. But one thing’s for sure; it ain’t on Thasos. You have my personal guarantee on that.”
Pitt laughed. “That’s good enough for me.” He swung the towel over his shoulder and pulled at his swim trunks. “Well it’s been nice talking to you…“
“Airman Second Class Moody, sir.”
“I’m Major Pitt.”
The AP’s face went blank. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know you were an officer. I thought you were one of those civilians with NUMA. I’ll let you out this time, Major, but I’d appreciate it if you got a base pass.”
'I'll see to it first thing after breakfast.”
“My replacement comes on at 0800. If you’re not back by then, I’ll leave word so he’ll let you in without any trouble.”
“Thank you, Moody. Perhaps I’ll see you later.” Pitt waved and then turned and walked down the road towards the beach.
Pitt kept to the right side of the narrow paved road and in about a mile came to a small cove that was flanked by large craggy rocks. The moonlight showed him a path, and he took it until his feet crunched softly in the sandy beach. He dropped the towel and walked to the tide line. A wave broke, and the white of its crest slid smoothly across the packed sand and licked his feet The dying wave hesitated for a moment and then fell back, forming the trough for the next crest There was barely a breath of wind, and the glistening sea was relatively calm. The moon cast its glow on the dark water and left a shaft of silver that traveled over the surface to the horizon where the sea and sky melted together into absolute blackness. Pitt soaked up the warm stillness and moved into the water, swimming along the silver shaft An inner feeling always overcame Pitt when he was alone and near the sea. It was as though his soul seeped out of his body, and he became a thing without substance, without form. His mind was purified and cleansed: all mental labor ceased and all thoughts vanished. He was only vaguely aware of hot and cold, smells, touch, and all the other senses, except hearing. He listened to the nothingness of silence; the greatest, but most unknown, treasure of man. Forgotten for the moment were all his failures, all his victories and all his loves, even life itself was buried and lost in the stillness.
He lay dead and floated in the water for nearly an hour. Finally, a small swell slapped at his face and he unwittingly inhaled a few drops of salt water. He snorted, dispelling the discomfort and again became aware of his bodily sensations. Without watching his progress, he effortlessly backstroked toward the shore. When his hands arched and touched the dense sand, he stopped swimming and drifted onto the beach like a piece of flotsam. Then he dragged himself forward until he was only half-out of the water, letting it swirl around his legs and buttocks. The warm Aegean surf rose out of the dim light and flooded up the beach, caressing his skin, and he dozed off.
The stars were beginning to blink out one by one with the pale light of the approaching dawn when an inner alarm sounded in Pitt’s brain, and he suddenly became alert to a presence. Instantly he was awake, but he made no movement, other than peering through half-open eyes. He barely could make out a shadowy form standing over him. Focusing and straining his eyes in the faint light, he tried to distinguish a detailed shape.
Slowly, an outline materialized. It was a woman.
“Good morning,” he said and sat up.
“Oh my God,” the woman gasped. She threw a hand to her mouth as if to scream.
It was still too dark to see the wild look in her eyes, but Pitt knew it was there. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The hand slowly dropped. She just stood there looking down at him. Finally she found her voice. “I… I thought you were dead.” She stammered the words softly.
“I can hardly blame you. I suppose if I stumbled on someone sleeping in the tide at this time of morning I would think the same thing.”
“You gave me quite a frightful shock, you know, sitting up and talking like that.”
“Again, my sincere apologies.” It suddenly occurred to Pitt that the woman was speaking English. Her accent was decidedly British, but it had a trace of German. He rose to his feet. “Please allow me to introduce myself; my name is Dirk Pitt.”
