Saviours of the North Sea Part II

[Silktie]

PART II

02 March
Harry’s Office

Harry and Ruth sit facing each other across Harry’s desk. Ruth is trying to calculate the possible emotional impact on Harry of once again having his daughter embroiled in an operation. Harry is trying desperately to rid his mind of images of Ruth and McCintosh together. In that moment he decides that he really does hate the Home Secretary for forcing this operation onto them. Ruth’s voice drags him out of his gloomy thoughts.
“You didn’t know that Catherine was working on the environmental documentary?” She tries her best not to make it sound like a criticism of his parenting skills.
Harry looks at her. “When we last talked about her latest project, I may have missed some salient details due to delirium over the fact that she wasn’t about to blunder into another godforsaken war zone.” He sighs. “I heard ‘England’ and ‘environmental issue’ and was so relieved that I didn’t really pay attention to the rest.”
Ruth smiles gently at him. “You worry about her.”
He gives the merest hint of a smile and looks away. “In any case, it has something to do with oil rigs in the North Sea threatening some sea slugs or something.”
Amused, Ruth raises her eyebrows. “Sea slugs?”
“Maybe it’s whales or polar bears, I don’t know,” he shrugs, then decides to change the topic.

“We are going to have to go with Tariq’s idea. I’ll get Catherine to take you on as her research assistant and you’ll go to the conference under your own name.”
He drags McCintosh’s file to him and flicks through it. He has an inherent dislike of business tycoons and can’t help but let it show immediately.
“Oil tycoon philanthropist. Now there’s a contradiction in terms if ever I’ve heard one. And what’s with the pretentious name; Jean-Paul. The man’s ancestry is as British as they come, for God’s sake.”
Ruth stays silent, watching him fondly while he complains. She has always loved – and truth be told, shared – Harry’s disdain for the majority of politicians and big business types. It gladdens her that he seems to have gotten some of his old fire back. She doesn’t allow herself to entertain the thought that there could be a more personal reason behind Harry’s reaction towards McCintosh. And now he addresses a question at her.
“I think it will be best if you try to avoid McCintosh as much as possible, Ruth. Are you all right with that?”
“Perfectly. If I don’t see him all week that’ll be just fine with me.”
The answer surprises him somewhat and he yet again wonders exactly what the history between Ruth and this man is. But still he can’t bring himself to ask. Instead he contents himself with knowing that she doesn’t seem all that eager on a reunion.

When he leaves his office a few minutes later, he goes unnoticed by Tariq and Dimitri, who continue discussing Catherine, unaware that their boss, and even more importantly her father, can overhear.
“I think she’s hot,” Tariq says, and a moment later a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.
“Geez!” He starts badly, and pales a little when he looks up to see Harry scowling at him.
“You think my daughter is ‘hot’?”
“What Tariq means to say, Harry, is that your wife must have been quite a looker to produce such a beautiful daughter,” Dimitri adds helpfully.
Harry scowls some more at the implied insult about his own appearance, before returning to the issue at hand.
“Let me be absolutely clear about this,” he states menacingly, “if either of you as much as look at my daughter during this operation, I will post you to the worst possible place I can think of. Understood?”
Both nod contritely. Harry doesn’t move, and continues to glare at them. Tariq finally realises that Catherine’s photo is still open on his screen and hastily closes it. When Harry turns away he notices Ruth trying to hide her smirk by ducking behind her screen. He waits until he is safely around the corner before he smiles too.

* * *

Same day, midnight
Laptev Sea, north of Siberia

The man stands on the foredeck of the old ship, the diesel engine making the deck plates vibrate beneath his feet. It is pitch dark, and there is no other light in sight anywhere around him. He rides the ship’s movement across the ocean swells with the ease of a man who has spent a life-time at sea. It is bitterly cold, but he hardly notices. Instead he is concentrating on the feel of the wind against his face. He can tell purely from this that the ship has about reached the desired speed. Right on cue the door to the bridge behind him opens, and the Captain leans out.
“Twelve knots, Andrei.”
The man on the deck nods, takes a last drag from his foul smelling cigarette before flicking the butt over the rail. He follows the Captain inside.

* * *

03 March
Thames House

Catherine announces herself to the security at the front desk. As she waits for Harry to come and fetch her, she reflects on her relationship with her father. Estranged for so long, she is grateful for the effort Harry has made to improve their relationship in recent years. She loves having him back in her life, although she will never admit it to her mother. As she became more mature, she eventually realised that his emotional reticence was not due to indifference towards her, but that it was a protection mechanism. Although she will never know for sure, she suspects it is something to do with his work. But she does know, now, after her near-death experience in Beirut five years ago and the extraordinary lengths he had gone to to save her, that her father loves her very much. That he is capable of deep emotion, but that he is hopeless at expressing those feelings.

Harry exits the elevator and strides across the lobby towards her. Catherine notes with interest how the security officers unconsciously straighten up at the sight of him. One of them greets him cheerfully.
“Morning Sir. Nice day for it.”
Harry nods, then mutters gloomily, “Is it?”
However, upon spotting his only daughter he brightens immediately. They embrace, and Harry’s heart lifts at the knowledge that hugging each other is no longer an activity that requires careful thought or induces awkwardness.

As he escorts her to one of the public interview rooms he is amused to see her looking about her with undisguised curiosity. It’s a strange thought to know that this is as much as anyone in his family has ever seen of his work environment. When he shows her into the room, she looks up to see another woman rise from the table. Harry introduces them briefly.
“This is Ruth Evershed, who works with me. Ruth, this is my daughter, Catherine.”
The two women regard each other in frank appraisal, and for the first time Harry begins to wonder whether this may actually be a terrible idea.

They settle around the table and Harry starts off the conversation by addressing his daughter.
“This is about the Shetland environmental conference. You’re going to attend, aren’t you?”
“How did you…” She stops herself, remembering where she is and what her father does for a living, and merely nods. Harry continues.
“I need a favour. I want you to include Ruth in your team as your Research assistant.”
Catherine is not pleased by the request. Her first instinct is to immediately refuse, but curiosity wins out.
“Why is MI5 interested in the conference?”
“We’ll be providing security.”
Catherine frowns, a mannerism so familiar to Ruth that she can’t help a slight intake of breath.
“But don’t you usually deal with terrorists?”
Harry glances at Ruth before answering. “Yes. I’m doing a favour for the Home Secretary.”
Shaking her head, Catherine laughs a little. Harry tilts his head at her.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just weird to think of my father hobnobbing with the Home Secretary.”
Harry smiles a little uncertainly, not sure whether she meant it in a good or bad way.

Ruth gently intervenes.
“Catherine, what exactly is your documentary about?”
“It investigates possible causes for the collapse of the sand eel population in the North Sea.”
She is aware that Ruth is studiously avoiding eye contact with her father, and that both seem to be suppressing some amusement. Ruth can practically hear Harry in her head saying that he wasn’t that far off with his sea slug comment. Looking between the two of them with a bemused expression, she continues.
“As you may or may not know, the sand eel collapse is in turn threatening many of the bird species of the North Sea, including the Atlantic Puffin, Arctic Tern and Northern Fulmar populations. It is thought to be caused by a rise in ocean temperature, which in turn causes a change in the mix of plankton – the main food of the sand eels. I am investigating whether the oil rigs in the North Sea may have had a more direct causal effect than believed to be the case thus far.”

Ruth is scribbling notes, and Harry watches her for a moment before turning to Catherine.
“We don’t want to interfere with your documentary in any way. You are to continue as per normal, only with an additional staff member.”
Ruth takes over seamlessly.
“You won’t have to pay me, but I will actually be doing the research work for you as required.”
Harry nods. “Everything needs to be as authentic as possible. Besides, Ruth is the best analyst I’ve ever known, so this may actually be to your advantage.”
Although Ruth tries to hide it, Catherine can tell that she is pleased by the compliment. Having spent a whole childhood defined by mostly unsuccessful attempts to win her father’s approval, Catherine herself is rather surprised to hear him complement someone else with such ease and warmth. Adding this to the effortless tag-team performance she’s just been witness to, she is becoming increasingly intrigued by the nature of the relationship between her father and this woman. Her silence prompts Harry to speak further.
“I’m also going to be at the conference. Unfortunately we’ll have to pretend not to know each other. Can you do that?”
This piece of information decides her. She’s not going to pass up an opportunity to observe her father in action, and to possibly gain a deeper understanding of his mysterious job that has cost their family so much.

* * *

Same day, evening
Siberia, undisclosed remote location

Andrei sits down at the table with the satellite phone in front of him. He thinks for a moment, then calls the number in London. It is picked up almost immediately. He speaks in Russian.
“The test was run successfully last night. She’s old, but we’ve fixed everything that needed to be fixed, and replaced some of the navigational equipment with more modern electronics. The launch went smoothly, the capsule was able to complete the round trip and was retrieved again without any problems. We are ready.”
The voice at the other end is calm.
“Good. The coordinates of the target are being sent to you now. You have a two day window in which to complete the task; 7-9 March. Only contact me in an emergency before then.”
The line goes dead. A few seconds later the coordinates come through on the encrypted communication channel. Andrei goes over to a map and traces them in. He stares at his destination: a dot in the North Sea, near the coast of the Shetland Islands.

* * *

04 March
The Grid

Harry is late getting back from the JIC meeting, but as soon as he steps through the doors he waves them all into the meeting room for their morning briefing.
“Right, update on the conference preparations please,” he asks as soon as everyone’s settled.
Tariq goes first. “I’ve finished preparing everyone’s legends. Well, Beth’s really, since Harry and Ruth will be going as themselves. Ruth’s back-story has been fully prepared, though.” He hands the information around.
Harry peruses the document. “Promising academic career given up to pursue the worthy cause of environmental activism. Good. That should do. Ruth, how are you getting on at becoming an expert on the dwindling numbers of the North Sea sand eel?”
“Well. I’ve obtained some research papers from a leading expert on bird species in that area.”
This gets Harry’s attention. He raises an eyebrow before asking carefully, “And does the leading expert know that you have obtained his papers?”
Ruth avoids eye contact. “They haven’t been published yet.”
“I see.” He decides it’s best to move on. “Beth?”

“I’ve come across some interesting information. Apparently three new oil concessions in the North Sea are going to be up for grabs soon. Environmental groups have long been lobbying for no further concessions to be given, but it seems the coalition government is planning to go ahead with this. If the environmentalists find out, there could be trouble at the conference.”
She glances at Ruth before continuing. “Jean-Paul McCintosh’s company is one of the front-runners to get the concessions, along with BP.”
“Oh great. Beth, you better stick to McCintosh pretty closely. He is not to make any move without us knowing about it.” Aware of Ruth’s eyes on him, Harry feels the need to provide an explanation for this order.
“We wouldn’t want anything to happen to Mr McCintosh on our watch.”
He looks around the table. “Any other possible security threats to the conference?”
The others shake their heads.
“Right then.” As everyone starts to gather their papers, he remembers something else.
“Oh, what is the latest on the suspected missing Russian naval craft?”
“Naval Intelligence said they’d send us the details. We’re still waiting for it,” Dimitri replies.
Harry frowns. “That was over a week ago. Are they sending it by carrier pigeon?”
The others stifle their grins as Harry gets up.
“Get onto them again, Dimitri, and perhaps enlighten them about the wonders of modern technology to speed up the process.”
As he reaches the door he calls over his shoulder, “You can all leave early to pack. Be at the airfield tomorrow morning at six. Don’t be late.”

As Ruth settles herself back at her desk, she ponders the fact that Harry hasn’t asked for details of her acquaintance with Jean-Paul McCintosh. Usually he would have no qualms about demanding personal information from his officers if there were any chance of it impacting on an operation. Perhaps it is the fact that they do not at present have a specific security threat against the conference that has prevented him from doing so. Or perhaps, a little voice in the back of her head says, it is because he doesn’t want to hear that you had had a torrid affair with this man, even if it happened a long time ago.

She sighs. He has been the consummate professional towards her since his return from suspension. Gone are the snipes and the barbed comments that sometimes punctuated their interaction after Ros’ funeral, and she is glad of that. However, gone also is the intimate emotional connection they once had, and she finds that she is not so happy about that. She can’t blame him, really. Thinking back at how harshly she’d told him that it was wrong of him to love her, she cringes a little inwardly. Although she still believes he should not have sacrificed Albany to save her, she has since asked herself what she would have done in his shoes – if it were his life on the line and she was the one in possession of the state secret that could save him; and is finding that the answer is not nearly as straightforward as she would like to believe. And anyway-
Her thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of the phone. It is the number of their liaison at GCHQ.
“Ruth, we thought you should know we’ve intercepted an encrypted communication that could be linked to the conference in the Shetlands.”
“What does it say?”
“That’s the thing – it says nothing much. It only provides a set of coordinates which collates to a point in the North Sea… Near the Shetland coast.”
Ruth gets that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“That’s not good.”
The liaison continues.
“There’s more. We were monitoring that frequency because of an earlier intercept that was a little strange. On the 22nd of February we intercepted this message: ‘Goods obtained stop Refurbishment in progress stop Estimated completion two weeks stop’.”
Furiously scribbling down the message, Ruth chews her pen thoughtfully.
“Do you know where it was sent from?”
“No. Great care has been taken to obscure the origins. We’re working on it, but thus far we have only narrowed it down as originating somewhere between the Ural Mountains and the East coast of the US.”

When Ruth unceremoniously bursts into his office, Harry need only take one look at her face to know something is wrong. And her next words confirm it.
“Harry, we have a problem.”

tbc

[Aria]

I'm really enjoying this Silktie. Loved the H/R/Catherine interaction and Harry's threats to Dimitri and Tariq. Keep up the great work.

[DogSoSmall]

Agreed. And it's also such a relief that Harry and Ruth are talking like normal human beings and not just sniping at each other. Really enjoying this.

[A Cousin]

Fabulous, as usual, silktie! I am really loving the idea of Catherine in this. Having the POV of a civilian, and such a personally connected civilian, has great potential. I am looking forward to where this goes.

[HellsBells]

Loving this story. All the details make it a really believable story.

[Tea Lady]

You're building this up nicely Silktie. Looking forward to the next chapter.