Saviours of the North Sea Part V

[Silktie]

PART V

06 March, 06:00
Shetland Islands

As they round the corner to the front of the hotel, Ruth suddenly stops. Most of Harry’s blood still being elsewhere than his brain, he is a little slow on the uptake and walks into the back of her. He looks over her shoulder and sees Dimitri departing the hotel in the opposite direction. Luckily he doesn’t notice them.
“On his way to investigate the coordinates,” Harry murmurs.
They continue into the hotel once he is out of sight.

In the lift they station themselves at opposite ends, as though they need as much distance as possible between them. In Harry’s case it is certainly necessary as his self control is still nowhere to be found. All he wants to do is pin her to the nearest wall and continue where they left off. The only thing stopping him is an overwhelming fear that she has changed her mind. He doesn’t look at her, petrified that the interruption has allowed her time to build up her barriers again. But when he finally lifts his head, her gaze is on him, radiating desire.
“It will be two hours before anyone may need us,” she says in a low, husky voice. There is no mistaking her meaning and his breathing speeds up involuntarily. Fraternisation during an operation is against his personal rules, and hers too. But with everything that’s happened, and not least the events of the last 24 hours, his judgement has been seriously impaired. This is her, the person he trusts more than any other, and the woman he loves with every fibre of his being. He does not for one second consider saying no.

As soon as the lift stops on their floor, Harry leads the way out. His room is closer, and they reach for each other the moment the door closes behind them. They can’t remove their clothes fast enough, can’t stop kissing as they move to the bed and fall onto it in a tangle of limbs. When they finally come together, after so much time and hardship, it is momentous.
Ruth says, “Yes… Oh Harry yes,” before he kisses her again hungrily and any coherent thought is washed away by a tumult of sensations.

* * *

06:30
Lerwick harbour

“Ah, there you are, laddie,” the Scottish commander of the Coast Guard contingent greets Dimitri.
“We’ll have to hurry – there’s a big storm coming.”
Dimitri hops on board and they immediately heave off. He looks around the immaculate boat.
“Did you manage to get the diving equipment I asked for?”
The Commander nods and points towards the cabin.
“In there.”
Once they are clear of the harbour Dimitri provides them with the coordinates, then goes into the cabin to check the equipment.

He derives an inordinate amount of pleasure from being back on a boat, heading out to sea and adventure. This, and the events of the last few months make him wonder, for a moment, whether he made a mistake in leaving the SBS to join MI5. Was he blinded by the secrecy, the glamour of being a secret agent? Is he perhaps more suited to being a soldier, where at least you’re sure who the enemy is? Shaking himself mentally, he banishes these thoughts. He has never been someone that gives up easily, and he will stick with this job and make a success of it. In time, he hopes the doubts will recede, along with his self recrimination for not recognising that something was going wrong with Lucas. He wonders how Harry copes with it all. The man has been in the service for more than thirty years, suffering God knows how many betrayals, losses and failures. And yet he is still standing, still fighting. But at what cost? Thinking again about recent events, he hopes that he will have the opportunity to love someone deeply enough to risk losing everything for them. He’s heard that Ruth once gave up everything to save Harry as well, and he wonders again at their strange relationship.

Bringing his focus back to the task at hand, he checks the diving gear carefully before putting on the wetsuit. The Commander calls to him.
“Laddie, you’d better come and see this!”
Back on deck the Commander points to a huge structure taking shape on the horizon.
“It’s an oil rig.”
Dimitri ponders this and makes a decision.
“Okay, radio them and get permission to check the submerged structure. Then drop me off as close as you can get, and I’ll take a look.”
The Commander checks the sky and the growing swells worriedly.
“We have to head back in half an hour, or we’ll be hit hard by the storm.”
Nodding, Dimitri goes back into the cabin to finish his preparations.

The Commander calls him out when they are in position, and he steps off the diving platform into the icy water. As he sinks down, he switches on the powerful hand-held light and approaches the oil rig’s underwater structure. He circles it slowly, gradually increasing his depth. At about fifteen metres down he spots something on the piping bringing the oil up from the ocean floor. Closer inspection shows it to be an electronic device. Dimitri takes various images of it before checking for any signal transmissions. To his surprise he picks up a strong signal on a frequency he is rather familiar with. He can’t help thinking that Harry will love this. Leaving the device in place, he slowly makes his way back to the surface.

* * *

07:30

Ruth is snuggled against Harry’s side, idly tracing irregular patterns on his chest. He is lying on his back whilst slowly running his fingers through her hair. When she lifts her head to look at his face, he has the most content expression she has ever seen on him. It makes her smile. She doesn’t want to ruin this perfect moment, but there are things she needs to know.
“You really think we can do this; see each other and continue to work together?” She asks the question in the manner of someone who is afraid to hear the answer, but his reply is immediate and certain.
“Yes I do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here now.” When she frowns a little, he continues.
“If we adhere to a few basic ground rules, we have as good a chance as any other couple to succeed.”
“Like what?”
“Well, you’ll always have to do as I say, for starters.”
Her hand stills on his chest and she looks at him uncertainly. He seems quite serious for a few moments, before a smile creeps around the corners of his mouth. Relieved, Ruth shakes her head at him.
“Funny.”

He laughs softly, then sobers.
“Seriously though. I don’t expect you to always agree with my decisions, but you can’t challenge me in front of the team. We do that in private, yes?”
She nods. “Agreed. What else?”
“We leave the work at work. God knows, we spend enough time there. We shouldn’t waste the precious little time we’ll have together on discussing more work.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, and we don’t take work arguments home with us either.”
“Hmm. Especially as we’re bound to have enough other disagreements to contend with. We can both be rather stubborn, you know.”
There is still a note of concern in her voice. In response, Harry lifts her chin with his finger and looks her in the eye.
“We’ll figure it out, Ruth. After all, we’re two mature adults of above average intelligence who want to be together. Right?”
It is Harry’s turn to sound a little uncertain. She lifts her hand to his cheek and caresses the stubble there, her eyes soft.
“Absolutely.”

He’s about to reach for her again when his phone rings. Groaning, he retrieves it and looks at the caller ID.
“Towers,” he informs her before answering.
“It’s a little early, Home Secretary.”
“Yes, well, it’s all good news Harry.” Towers laughs a little before continuing.
“I want you to have a massage with me at nine. I need to discuss a few security issues with you.”
Harry is flabbergasted. He wonders whether he heard correctly.
“I’m sorry?”
“Meet me at the spa at nine. We’ll each get a massage while discussing a few things,” Towers repeats.
“Absolutely not!”
Ruth lifts her head questioningly at Harry’s adamant tone. Towers’ patience snaps.
“For God’s sake. Why must everything be a bloody battle with you?! It’s not torture, it’s a massage! I’m trying to do you a favour. You’ve been strung tighter than a violin string after the debacle with your Section Chief. You need to relax, which is the aim of a massage, or so I’m told. So be there at nine. With a grateful disposition.” He abruptly disconnects the call.

Harry tosses his mobile onto the bedside table.
“Terrific,” he grumbles.
“What?”
He tells her what the Home Secretary wants, and she looks at him as though he is mad.
“A massage… It’ll be wonderful. Why don’t you want to go? What do you have against massages?”
Now it is his turn to look at her as though she isn’t all there. He says pointedly, “Am I, or am I not currently sporting a rather vivid love-bite on my chest?”
Ruth’s eyes widen before darting to said blemish situated right over his heart. Her fingers stroke over it and she begins to laugh.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, Harry.”
She can’t stop laughing, and Harry decides he’ll happily suffer any mortification about to come his way if he could regularly hear such an expression of carefree joy from her. He suddenly rolls her under him, his eyes laughing with her.
“You’ll have to make it up to me before I go, then.”

* * *

08:30

Beth is circling the hotel’s expansive lawn, sneaking from shrub to shrub, trying to get as close as possible to two men talking under the pagoda at the bottom of the garden. Once in range, she points the directional microphone and video recorder Tariq supplied her with at them and adjusts her earpiece. After overhearing McCintosh telling his assistant that he had a private meeting to attend at this time, she decided to investigate. To her considerable surprise she sees that the second person is the Home Secretary.

McCintosh speaks first. “Have you thought any more about my proposal, William?”
“I told you: the decision about the oil concessions is not mine. It’s up to the Energy Secretary.”
McCintosh shrugs. “Yes, but you know him very well. A word in his ear at the right time… Like I said, it will be worth your while. Five hundred Grand’s worth.”
Towers looks troubled. “It’s not about the money, JP. The problem is BP. They are a proven alternative with a strong track record.”
McCintosh looks incredulous. “Even after the Gulf of Mexico disaster?”
Waving the objection away, Towers says, “That’s only one incident. One swallow does not a summer make.”
“What if it happens again? Here in the North Sea?”
“They assured us it won’t,” Towers says confidently. “It’s their new class of oil rigs that are deployed here. There has never been a problem with any of those.”
“Until now,” McCintosh mumbles under his breath, then adds more audibly, “For fuck’s sake, William, I’m not asking you to break any laws. Just a word in the right ear. I’ll go up to seven-fifty, donated to your favourite charity. No one will ever know.”
Towers looks around, then nods a little reluctantly. “Fine, I’ll see what I can do. I have to go, I have a massage booked.”

Beth, still crouched behind a shrub, watches them move off, then sits back on her haunches thoughtfully. The first fat raindrops start to fall and she hurries back to the hotel. On the way in she runs into Dimitri, and immediately she can sense suppressed excitement from him. He grins at her.
“I’ve had a fruitful morning,” he announces happily.
She grins back. “So have I.”
His face falls a little, then brightens again. “Right then, let’s go see who can impress the boss the most.”
“You’ll have to wait until ten. Harry’s meeting with the Home Sec first. And you’ll never guess where…”
They disappear into the hotel, laughing.

10:00

Dimitri, Beth and Tariq are gathered around the table as Ruth bustles into the meeting room.
“Where’s Harry?” She addresses the question to the room in general.
It is Beth that answers, with what Ruth recognises as a pitying look, presumably about the perceived lack of communication between her and Harry.
“Towers asked him to meet at the spa. They’re having a massage.” Dimitri laughs at that.
“Can you imagine the Home Secretary naked? That’s not a sight I’d want to see this early in the morning…”
He trails off when Harry strides into the room, looking remarkably upbeat and relaxed. Their boss seems to actually be smiling slightly. They all stare at him. Harry looks between them.
“Is there something on my face?”
“A smile,” Dimitri mutters.
“Er, no,” says Beth, smirking, “but you seem very relaxed this morning. The massage really worked, huh?”
Harry carefully avoids looking at Ruth.
“Apparently so. Shall we start?”

He settles at the table. “Ruth.”
She nods at him and takes up the briefing. “According to Catherine, McCintosh tried to bribe a radical environmental movement, known as the Saviours of the North Sea, to sabotage one of BP’s oil rigs. The aim of which, I suspect, is to ensure that his own company receives the oil concessions from the government. We don’t yet know whether the environmentalists agreed to do it.”
“That’s not all McCintosh is doing to secure the concessions,” Beth adds. She plays them the recording of that morning’s meeting. Afterwards, Harry stares at the screen with a strange glint in his eye.
“Tut tut, William,” he says softly, almost to himself. Once again they all stare at him in bemusement, trying to fathom why he would look almost happy about this development.

Instead of elaborating, he lifts an eyebrow at Dimitri, silently asking him to report on his early morning trip. Dimitri dutifully does so.
“There’s an oil rig at the coordinates given in the encoded message, and Tariq has established that it is one of BP’s. I had a look at the underwater structure, and I found this.”
He displays an image of the electronic device.
Ruth asks, “What is it?”
“It’s a homing beacon,” Tariq answers. “It sends out a signal on a very specific frequency to guide another vessel to it.”
Dimitri takes over.
“Now here’s where it gets interesting: that beacon is transmitting on the frequency used exclusively by the Russian navy’s Special Forces division.”
Silence reigns whilst everyone digests this and thinks through the implications.

Harry looks at Dimitri.
“Where is it now?”
“I left it in place.”
“What?!” Harry is obviously not amused. “Care to explain your reasoning behind that particular decision?”
Slightly less confident, Dimitri glances at the others.
“I thought we could set a trap for them. Capture whatever vessel and personnel are coming.”
Harry is impressed by the daring behind the plan despite himself. Not unlike the way Dimitri’s willingness to challenge him over Albany gained his respect.
“Interesting idea. Let me think about it. It’s a worry that we don’t know what the beacon is for, or when the intended target will arrive. If the beacon were used to guide a missile or other weapon to destroy the oil rig, and we didn’t stop it, we’ll look like mugs. Not to mention having the deaths of the workers and an oil spill the likes of the Gulf of Mexico on our conscience. So you may have to go back and retrieve it if we don’t get more information soon.”
Tariq glances out the window where rain is falling hard and the wind is whipping the trees to and fro.
The beacon won’t be effective in this weather. It needs calm seas to work.”
“Okay, good. That gives us some leeway until tomorrow. We’ll make a decision then. In the meantime, Ruth, work the environmentalists hard, see if you can confirm whether they agreed to sabotage the oil rig. Beth, you stick to McCintosh, see if you can find out when this plan might be implemented.”
Finally he looks at Dimitri. “You investigate the Russian angle with Tariq. Get onto GCHQ again about communications similar to the one giving the coordinates. Let’s try and put a date on this possible attack.”
They all nod and start to gather their papers.
“Oh, and Mr Levendis.” Harry’s tone is severe.
“Your sense of humour needs some work.”
Dimitri smiles sheepishly. So Harry had heard his comment about Towers. He leaves with a contrite nod.

Once everyone but Ruth has left, Harry smiles.
“Actually,” he says mischievously, “Towers’ body was rather a disturbing sight at such an early hour.”
Ruth laughs. “Did he comment about the, er, bruise on your chest?”
“Well, he did about the biggest double-take I have ever seen when I took off my shirt, but to his credit, he stopped short of winking at me and calling me ‘stud’.”
She laughs again. “Good.” Then she becomes serious. “What are you going to do about Towers and McCintosh?”
He purses his lips. “Nothing. For now.”
The answer surprises Ruth and she studies him carefully. He is up to something, she can tell. Noticing her puzzlement, Harry says, “Why did I agree for us to provide security for the conference, do you think? It’s not normally our thing, unless there’s a specific threat.”
Understanding dawns. “Ah,” she says.
Harry says nothing, merely gives her a conspiratorial look.

* * *

12:00
Nordic Sea

Andrei flings the pliers down in disgust. It is no good; he simply can’t fix the damage to the homing sensors in the capsule’s nose. They have passed through the worst of the storm, and the ship is riding the swells more evenly. He trudges back to his cabin and retrieves the satellite phone. This time, it takes much longer for the call to be answered.
“Yes,” the voice says curtly.
Andrei gets straight to the point. “The capsule was damaged in the storm. I can’t fix it. We’ll have to abort.”
The voice takes on an unpleasant snarl. “That’s not an option. It has to be done as agreed. I don’t care if you have to personally fucking swim the North Sea to do it, but you will get it done. Or you will rue the day you ever met me. Do I make myself clear?”
Andrei sits back on his bunk, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers thoughtfully. The threat has given him an idea.
“Your threats don’t scare me. But my people need the money. So I will follow your suggestion.”
There is a pause before the voice asks a little sarcastically, “You’re going to swim there?”
“In a manner of speaking. I can use the small hand-held sensor. The only problem is that the ship will have to leave the shipping lanes to drop me close enough. That may attract attention.”
“I’m willing to take that risk,” the voice replies. “If you switch off the ship’s running lights and do it under cover of darkness, the ship may go undetected. Fine. Use the hand-held sensor then. When?”
“The evening of the eighth.”
“Night after tomorrow. Perfect.”
The line goes dead.

Back at the hotel, Catherine is interviewing the Energy Secretary at one end of the conservatory. She notices McCintosh having an intense discussion on his mobile at the other end, and makes sure she captures him in the background. She doesn’t notice his assistant looking in her direction.

tbc