“Looks good, XO. Come to three five five degrees.” He was trying to keep to the eastern side of the channel.
This way, backing into the channel would mean the boat would be bow low and trailing if the bottom became too shallow. It would also mean if a quick exit was required, the boat would be facing the correct way. After two minutes, he popped the scope up again.
“Come to zero degrees.” A few minutes later a dull scraping sounded through the hull. The boat had bottomed.
“That’s it XO, we’re on the bottom. I’m going to drag us along for a while with the prop.”
“Increase revs, to 50 percent.”
The XO looked at Nathan with wide eyes. He wanted to shake his head but didn’t. They should get away with it for a while at least.
After a while, he popped up the scope again. He looked at the vertical travel meter on the monitor. It hardly moved. He selected down scope, but maintained the view. The periscope was now permanently above the surface, the hull still dragged on the seafloor. Nathan gauged the distance to the base. It was 300 yards to the sea wall. A tanker, and what looked like a frigate were anchored up.
“All stop.” The revs fell away and the scraping sound stopped.
“Flood stern ballast. Open and trim vents fore and aft.” The boat came level. “XO, tell the divers we’re 300 yards out, it’s up to them now.”
INNES AND ALVES PUT on their rebreathers, helped by the two seamen. One of the seamen spun open the lower hatch, and Innes and Alves climbed up into the sail and the bug was passed up to them. The lower hatch was closed and the seawater started to fill the chamber. Soon it was full, just a red light filled the chamber. The outer hatch was opened and Innes swam out. He had a surprise, he broke surface. The top of the sail was just about level with the surface. All her periscope and transmission masts were up there in fresh air. He rolled into the sea. Alves and Innes manhandled the bug over the sail’s edge. They vented buoyancy and dropped down into the channel on the starboard side of the boat.
The two divers switched on their head torches and set off to the southeast. Eventually, the channel wall appeared to their left, and they pressed on, and it wasn’t long before they saw the cable. It was still shielded here, so the bug couldn’t be deployed. Ten yards further on Alves put a hand up and stopped. It was a trip line again, no doubt leading to a spear gun. They carefully passed over it. Soon they found a diagonal line, just like the one at Mischief. They found the intersection point and crossed as low as they could.
A few yards further on, Innes stopped. What the hell? There was a row of spear guns cocked and pointing upwards, spaced about nine inches apart. They were attached to a metal strip on the seabed. How the hell were they set off? It was tempting to cross over them but they must be triggered somehow. You could end up with two harpoons in your chest.
Innes tried using his knife to lift the metal strip, it lifted but didn’t set off the spear guns. He had an idea, he tapped Alves and pointed to the left and they swam to the wall. At the channel wall the strip ended; the last gun was six inches from the side. He took his lifting bag from his leg pouch pointed to the strip and gave Alves the thumbs up. Alves gave him the ok; he understood. Soon the lifting bag was fixed to the strip. Innes added gas from the seven-litre bale out tank on his chest and the bag did its job, it lifted the strip of spear guns from near the wall. When he thought the gap was big enough, he took a bow and gestured Alves through, then passed the bug through.
Within twenty careful yards, the shielding ended. They placed the bug three yards to one side. Alves set the activator and Innes unscrewed the tap and laid the line out. Finally, they covered the bug with silt and small rocks. The two divers high fived each other and set off back the way they’d come. When they reached the strip of guns and the lifting bag, the strip was let down and the bag removed and stowed. They could leave no sign that they’d been here.
They began to head back through the 3D harpoon minefield. Innes heard it first, and knew instantly what it was. Oh, shit no.
Chapter 7
“HI PAUL, HERE’S MARIE.” Stockhaisen introduced her.
“Hi,” he shook hands with her. She was Hispanic, dark hair, elfin looks, brown eyes. Good looking, he had to admit.
“Hi Paul, I’ll tell you straight, I’m a bit nervous. The blind date thing is new to me.”
“Me too, so we’ll just have to wing it.”
“Have you been here before? Do you like Chinese food?” asked Marie.
“I’ve not been here before, no. But Chinese is fine. I was told Peekaboo picked it, it’s her birthday,” he smiled.
He’d not wanted to do this. A blind date. It was not his style, but Stockhaisen had insisted.
It had been a call he’d taken at Langley. “You’re coming to the dinner Paul, no ifs, no buts. It’ll be me and Carla, Peekaboo and this guy she’s started seeing. You and this girl that Carla knows.”
“But…”
“Don’t ‘but’ me Paul, it’s happening.”
“Mr Stockhaisen, your table is ready. If you would follow me.”
Paul followed the Chinese waitress with the swaying hips, which were clad in a long red skirt with gold symbols. The six of them sat and the first course was served.
After the meal, Stockhaisen and Paul were stood off to one side by the bar.
“Yeah, I’ll be there, the skins need this one. The Bronco’s do too, it sh…”
A Chinese waitress in a red and gold traditional costume approached them. “Mr Stockhaisen, your whiskies.” She held up a silver platter with two glasses of amber liquid on it.
“Thank you. Help yourself, Paul.”
She smiled and walked away.
“Pretty isn’t she? May something or other, that’s her name.”
Paul nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“At least we know she’s not the MSS agent.”
Paul tried to act disinterested. “Yeah.”
“The real one apparently is out of the city now, somewhere out in a house west of here. The FBI are closing in. I don’t know…”
Marie and Carla interrupted.
“Come on you two. I’ll bet you’re talking shop. Stop it and join in.” Stockhaisen rolled his eyes at Paul and walked off. Marie put her hand on Paul’s back and pushed him towards the rest of the group.
Paul was flushed with adrenaline. The FBI were closing in? Shit. Zhi Ruo, God, what are we going to do?
PAUL SAT AT HOME THAT evening with a glass of wine, he’d wanted coffee but he knew sleep was needed too.
He wrestled with the tangled web he’d woven. It was a quandary; to step up her protection he may have to tell her that he knew she was MSS. That would probably turn the tap off with the information he was getting. She didn’t know he was CIA either, she’d run a mile if she knew.
Just to add spice to the broth, and to totally put the whole thing in shit street, he had to admit it, as hard as it was to face it, he knew it was the truth.
He had fallen for her. He couldn’t lose Zhi. But, could he save her unless he did?
“SONAR. WE HAVE ACTIVITY at the base, prop sounds. It’s running quite fast but the ship’s not moving much. Stopped. Now in reverse. There’s a lot of echo from the bay. Stopped, now forward.”
Nathan frowned and looked at the XO.
“It’s a ship manoeuvring to come away from its birth. Something’s coming out of the base. ID, Benson?”
“There’s too much echo sir, but if you want my best guess, it’s that frigate.” He knew Benson well enough to know he was probably right. Nathan knew his upper mast works and maybe even the top of the sail was above water. The frigate wouldn’t suspect a hostile submarine in the channel. It would probably sail on by in the dark and there were two divers in the water. Then again it may spot them. To be trapped in here by an enemy frigate would be a nightmare. He hated to do it but he had to leave the divers behind.