He swallowed hard. This was the moment of truth. Now he was allowed one chance to prove his worth and in his mind DCI Smith repeatedly reminded himself to listen closely to what Mrs. Lancashire said. Nothing was as catastrophic as a miscommunication in MI6, the British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS).
"I shall inform Vauxhall Cross of your inclusion in this operation and you are not to contact your current supervisor or discuss any of the details," she said, her formerly kind smile now substituted by a stern commanding expression.
"I understand, madam. When does my involvement commence?" he asked.
"As soon as you have been briefed, DCI Smith. You will be notified of the arrangements, but what I can tell you now is that the Portuguese government is working with the SIS to apprehend a rogue operative working for a German organization profiting from the sale of biological weapons. You will be dispatched to Germany for the duration of the operation to infiltrate and report on the status of the organization of one Walter Eickhart, a Nazi war criminal now active in the acquisition of bio-weaponry and rare artifacts," she told Patrick. It sounded like the very thing he had always wanted to be involved in, although deep inside he harbored some uncertainty as to his ability to pass the language barrier with his level of bad German.
"Oh, and don't be concerned about your command of the language," she added as if she could read his expression, "You will be working for a British company suspected of dealing with Eickhart."
She chuckled at the relief in his demeanor and with that she thanked him for coming so soon and showed him out, as she had attended to the front door.
"We'll contact you soon, DCI Smith. I look forward to seeing what you can do," she nodded as she shook his hand.
Patrick beamed with victory as the car drove him back to his hotel, two blocks from the pub where he was aiming to celebrate his appointment, even if it was probationary. He wished that he could call Sam and boast, but he simply had to wait for him to return from his stint in some foreign country with lovely Nina Gould.
Chapter 30
Purdue waited until after dinner for all the crewmen to retire and then met up with Sam and Nina in his office to have a word. He trusted the two of them implicitly with what amount of information he was willing to relinquish.
"Please come in and sit down," he told them.
"I have a feeling you are about to drop a bomb on us, Mr. Purdue, one of many you have so much pleasure in dumping?" Sam smiled, as he entered. Purdue closed the door behind them and drew the blinds to the well-lit platform outside. Nina leaned forward with a look of anticipation that he felt intimidated by. He wanted her involved, not just because she was the best in her field, but because he adored her in rich ways she would never allow and he wanted her around him. Of course, he would never tell her that for fear of chasing her off.
"I have a confession to make," he started.
"Oh, God, what now?" Nina sighed, looking at Sam. But Sam was listening intently.
"I have been keeping some information from you, pertaining to the full purpose of this structure. You see, this is, in fact, not an active drilling platform and the men you see working here are strictly for the upkeep of the machinery we use, the electrical systems and construction—" he lectured in a matter-of-fact way, until Sam interrupted him.
"Construction of what?"
"That is of no consequence to you, Mr. Cleave," Purdue dismissed his question, "but what I am trying to tell you is that the oil rig is just a disguise. It is situated conveniently offshore outside local jurisdiction, in international waters. That ensures an amount of privacy for me to perform my work and conduct my research, you see?" he revealed, resembling some mild-mannered dictator stating his case.
"I shudder to ask," Nina chipped in.
"Indeed. Why would you need so much… uhh… privacy if you aren't up to no good?" Sam added to Nina's cynicism.
"You are both blowing this whole thing out of proportion. The bottom line is that this is not an oil rig, but in fact a submerged laboratory, masquerading as a drilling platform. And that, my dear Nina, is why you will have everything you require for your research on the Spear," he stretched out his arms proudly, "right here on Deep Sea One."
The two of them sat in a moment's silence, digesting Purdue's revelation.
"Why do you have a hidden laboratory, Mr. Purdue? It sounds rather shady to me, as you might understand," Sam pried.
"Why I have a hidden laboratory is none of your business, Sam. That I have a hidden laboratory where you can examine the artifact is what you should be focusing on," Purdue insisted, his light-hearted disposition threatening to leave him.
"Okay, well, when can I see it?" Nina asked. She surprised both men with her sudden compliance, but she did consider the prospect of finding out what else he was up to that might determine why he needed to operate outside the laws of any country.
"What, now?" he asked.
"Why not?" she replied, shrugging, as if to call Purdue's bluff. But she should have known better not to challenge someone with so much money and even more eccentricities.
"All right, then," he exclaimed, jumping up like a showman.
The chest and its priceless contents were locked away in Purdue's safe, locked by a security system designed by his best techs. Calisto joined them on their way to the cleverly concealed capsule elevator, which had perplexed his crew members so many times. Liam stood on the deck, having a smoke in the cold night air when he saw the four figures getting on the strange elevator. He wondered where it went, but, among all the strangeness going on here of strangers appearing and disappearing and sudden storms reported only around the oil rig, he was not even shocked anymore.
He wondered what they had done with the sinister wooden box he drew from the long missing ROV and why the cursed thing was not just tossed back to Davy Jones Locker where such wicked things belonged. He sucked on the bent cigarette and watched the elevator descend below deck, while he thought of the sunken submarine they discovered on the floor of the ocean below them. Liam's innate superstitions entertained the wildest ideas of what they were up to and what could be surrounding their pathetic souls out here where they were all at the mercy of the elements.
In the white buzz of the elevator light Nina looked at Sam. He was as attractive as the day she met him, perhaps even more so, and she could not help but feel that their destinies were entwined somehow. He was asking Purdue about the pressure capacity of the elevator and how it was constructed, while Nina studied the contours of his face. His soft dark eyes, his strong nose and the dark stubble that gave him a boyish charm all interested her, even if they were constantly butting heads.
Then she looked at Calisto, who was listening to the discussion of the men, and she recalled that instance where she walked in on her seduction of Sam. Never one to let competition perturb her, Nina felt a stinging disdain for Purdue's bodyguard.
"When are you leaving to go back home, sergeant?" Nina bit suddenly, hushing all conversation with her blatant bitchery. Calisto smiled warmly at her, not a good sign to those who knew her. Eager to watch the development of this conversation, the men kept quiet.
"I don't know, actually. I thought I'd stick around a bit longer," she replied.
"I'm sure you have a lot to do away from this dreadful hunk of steel," Nina said, trying to tone down on her cattiness, but she had lit a match that loved burning.
"Not really, no. I think this is where I'm needed most," and with that she deliberately looked at Sam before Purdue cut in to avert an estrogen laden bloodbath, "I have asked Sergeant Fernandez to extend her service, as I will be needing her a while longer than expected, Nina. I have stepped on a few toes, as you know, and I would not want to wander about without security," he explained, as tactfully as he could.