Sean dodged between the hanging objects. Eventually a short red-faced man arrived behind the counter.
‘Morning.’
‘Hi — I’m up here on a last minute vacation and forgot to bring a few things’ replied Sean. “I need some water bottles, a sleeping bag, a map of the area, ground sheet, a trowel and a light nylon net, some binoculars and a rucksack. Can you help?’
‘Desperate to leave the rat race?’ the man laughed quietly. ‘Well, I can understand that.’
He went off to collect the items shaking his head and chuckling to himself.
Next Sean went into a mini-supermarket and bought bottles of water, boiled sweets, candy bars, biscuits and toilet paper. No time to worry about the diet he thought.
He slung the shopping in the trunk and filled up on diesel on the way out of town, buying a spare can and filling that too. He had deliberately not asked anyone for directions because he knew that in such a small community word would soon get round.
Finding the cabin proved to be easier than he imagined. The grid reference from the GPS indicated it was five miles outside of the town. He came to a signpost leading up a muddy track to a ridge. Sean’s car slipped and skidded around the corners and for a time Sean thought he would need to get out and walk the rest of the way. About three quarters of the way up the hillside he pulled into a passing place, locked the car, and began to explore.
By now the sun had risen well into the sky and the air felt warm and smelt of resin from the pines and the soft scent of fir needles. For the first time in his mission the familiarity of the trees, the springiness of the ground underfoot and the smell in the air gave Sean a feeling of being at home. It was seductive but also dangerous. This was no time to let down his guard.
Quietly Sean walked along the path which lead in the general direction of the cabin. According to his map he was about half a mile away from the ridge. Sean knew the cabin was close to the ridge but the contour lines indicated it was set in a hollow. The map also showed a few tracks that meandered over the ridge and down to the next village some six miles away. Sean guessed that these might originally have been deer tracks as they all converged on water at some point.
Shortly Sean glimpsed the cabin amongst the trees. Between the tree line and the cabin there was a cleared area of two hundred yards. This ground was covered in heather and gorse and the odd clump of trees and bushes sprouted in between. In the afternoon sun the colours and scent became almost heady and Sean yearned to be home once again amongst the hills and glens of Scotland. The cabin sheltered behind a gentle rise which soon started a slow descent down the other side of the hill. The whole effect was breathtaking.
Keeping behind the tree line he never left sight of the cabin. Eventually he found a spot from where he could observe without being seen. There was some open space behind — he did not want to be surprised from the rear. Sean settled into a hollow in the ground. Through his binoculars he saw Natasha’s outline pass in front of the cabin’s small front facing window.
For a few moments Sean allowed a feeling of relief to wash over him. The thought occurred that the feeling was more personal than professional.
Reassured, Sean set to with the trowel and within half an hour he had dug enough earth from the hollow to make a comfortable and shallow grave in the loamy soil. He placed bracken and leaves in the hole for insulation then went in search of more bracken which he weaved into the nylon net making a camouflage blanket. Lastly he picked up an armful of small branches and twigs which he carefully distributed behind the lie-up point and up to the tree line. Anyone approaching from the rear would be bound to make a noise.
Pleased with his work he walked back to a natural hollow which lay a good 100 metres back in the forest and underneath some trees. The area was covered with light forest vegetation and dried bracken. Without disturbing the natural cover too much Sean scooped out a hollow in the earth and made a bed out of dead bracken. This would house his cache of stores and provide a second lay-up point out of sight of the cabin.
He went back to the car and lugged up the rest of his purchases, storing them in the hollow. By this time the sun had passed its peak and after one last glimpse of the cabin Sean sat and eat some bread and cheese, washing it down with a bottle of water.
When he finished he went back to the car again. He needed to get the car off the road, camouflaged from sight of passing cars and wondering hikers. Eventually he discovered an overgrown track further down the hillside near the approach road. With some difficulty he backed the car onto the track with brambles scratching the sides. He stopped after ten metres as the vegetation became too thick to drive back any further. At the main track Sean rearranged the greenery to cover the passage of the car. He then took a whole half hour to make a full circuit, examining the hiding place for any breaks in cover. Satisfied at last he made his way back to the lay-up point nearest the cabin.
During the late afternoon Sean listened idly to the bird life and watched as some rabbits emerged cautiously from their warrens. He knew why Natasha had come to this beautiful place. But no matter how much she might want to escape Sean was sure trouble would seek her out.
A little later he carefully rose from his prone position and reconnoitred the whole area. The opposite side of the ridge offered a useful close approach without being seen by anyone from the woods. He looked for signs of any recent surveillance but found none.
When he returned to the lay-up point it was growing dark. In the distance Sean heard the faint sound of a car or truck. He imagined that the woods would be patrolled by forestry people on the lookout for fires at this time of the year. He filled his rucksack with some of the food and water and hung the binoculars around his neck. He jumped up and down a few times after strapping it on to check that there would be no noise from the pack.
Sean settled into position pulling his newly made camouflage net over him. He didn’t have long to wait.
Chapter 21
Cetus made good speed. There were no indications of anything ahead. While it was still in range of ship based weapons and the ever present helicopters, Cetus could not stop tracking probabilities, trajectories and outcomes.
For that reason it had called its evasion package into play. Part of the package included a random number generator to decide whether it would steer east or west of its course. The computer was literally able to flip a coin: heads to go left, tails to go right, so that no attacker could guess with accuracy which direction the sub might go next — assuming they had Cetus in their sights.
What the program could not do was rule against a chance happening, such as a cup of coffee being spilt onto a map. This was precisely what had just happened aboard the USS Port Royal.
‘Dam’ said Captain Armstrong, sucking a finger. ‘That coffee’s hot!’
‘Sorry Captain, shall I bring another?’ asked the Ensign.
The Captain shook his head.
‘Shall I fetch a spare map?’
Armstrong looked at the damp stain that the coffee had made on the chart.
‘No, don’t bother — I think it will be OK. Next time, please just leave drinks on the side over there.’
The young man looked crestfallen and backed away.
The Captain traced his finger across the chart, but the stain drew his eyes away from the intended ambush site. The night before he and McIver had argued into the small hours about the best location to position the fleet. McIver wanted to blockade nearer coastal waters, thinking that the area under the coffee stain would be too far east.
Captain Armstrong wasn’t so sure. He thought that the sub would want to take to the deeper water further away from the continental shelf. He reasoned that the sub had been boxed in once before and though it was only a machine, it seemed to be able to learn from its mistakes.