Chapter NineHope on the Waves
Thick fingers dropped the handset back into its cradle as a heavyset man leaned back into his chair with a sigh. It groaned loudly beneath him.
‘Gordon!’ he barked.
The door behind him opened and a young man, no older than twenty-five, slipped in. He handed Gordon a stack of papers, scratchy handwriting covering the surface. He rubbed his wrist where the pain of handwritten reports seemed to centre.
‘Run these to Captain Powell.’
Gordon nodded sharply and slipped out as silently as he had entered. The beefy man stood and ambled over to the small window that looked over the cargo ship they had managed to evacuate to. Echoed calls of his soldiers at work on the decks below drifted up. Highly trained officers working shoulder to shoulder with the grunts to c
