Sea Leopard

the huge map-board.

'Our northern security is in question here, Kenneth,' Pyott replied in surprise, his nostrils narrowed to slits, the tip of his nose whitened with supressed anger at Aubrey's tone. 'Surely you can see that?'

'It is a point of view.'

'Kenneth, you are not an expert —'

'No, this distress call, now. You don't suspect its genuineness?'

'Good Lord, no.'

'What about you, Captain Clark?'

'Not really. I just don't think the matter's important enough to risk “Leopard”.' He looked up at the cluster of lights on the board. They seemed to have one centre, where the wavering arrow of the light indicator being operated by Pyott demonstrated Proteus's position.

'Ah. Now, my immediate reaction, employing my own peculiar expertise, would be to suspect the distress call. I would need proof that it was genuine.'

'We' ve identified the submarine concerned,' the commodore explained brusquely. 'We have triple checked. I don't think the matter is in doubt.' He looked to Pyott for support, and received it in an emphatic shake of the head.

Aubrey was intensely aware of the opposition of the two officers. They represented an opposite pole of interests. Also, they were in some way legitimised by their uniforms. Third Murderer again, he observed to himself.

'I see. It would still be my starting point.'

'What would be the object of an elaborate deception, in this case?' Pyott drawled.

'“Leopard.”'

'Good Lord, you're surely not serious —?'

'How would you react to the recall of Proteus until this chap Quin is found?'

'Utter nonsense!'

'The two matters haven't the slightest connection with one another Kenneth.'

'Great idea.'

'Ah. You would support such a move, Captain Clark?'

'I would.' Pyott looked pained by a spasm of indigestion, the commodore appeared betrayed.

'I do really think it's dangerous, risking “Leopard” in this way without having Quin safe and sound.'

'You made that point weeks ago, Kenneth. Try another record.'

'Giles, the KGB have started killing, such is their interest in Quin. Am I to rate his importance any lower — or that of his project?' Aubrey pointed up at the map, then indicated the rest of the room and its occupants. 'Who else is looking into this distress call?'

'It's our show.'

'Your work here is important, even if I consider it precipitate. But this present adventure — Giles, what can you possibly gain?'

Aubrey saw the answer in Pyott's eyes before the man spoke.

'Kenneth, I am at liberty to inform you — you, too, Clark — that this present adventure, as you term it, has a highest category security tag on it.'

'For a distress call?'

'For Proteus's mission,' Pyott explained quietly and fiercely. Aubrey guessed at the nature of the mission, and was appalled. It was what he had suspected he might hear, if he needled Pyott sufficiently, and what he had wished devoutly not to hear. 'The mission has been code-named —'

'You mean it's another, and extreme, sea trial for the “Leopard” system, Giles?'

'Why, yes,' Pyott admitted, somewhat deflated.

'What in hell —?'

'Excuse me, Captain Clark. Giles, you mean that approval has been given to sail Proteus almost into Soviet home waters, merely to prove the efficacy of the anti-sonar system?'

'That's it precisely.'

'My God, Giles, it's lunacy. Playing games. You have put the system, the submarine, her crew, at risk, just to score extra marks in the examination. It is nonsense, and furthermore, dangerous nonsense!' He studied Pyott's face, which was colouring with anger, and then the commodore. An identical, undented confidence.

'What is Proteus's ETA in the Tanafjord?'

Pyott smiled thinly. 'I see no harm in telling you, Kenneth. Disregarding changes of course and speed, we estimate sixteen to eighteen hours. Some time early tomorrow morning, GMT.'

'Giles, what intelligence do you have from the Norwegians?'

'They' ve backed off, fortunately.'

'Aerial surveillance?'

'We have some confirmation — infra-red, naturally. We' ve more or less pinpointed the Russian boat.'

'It is just an excuse, isn't it, Giles?'

Pyott shrugged, expansively; self-deprecation and dismissal featured jointly in the gesture of his shoulders and hands.

'It is an important — crucial — NATO exercise. A sea trial, as I explained. It cannot be described as an excuse.'

Aubrey paused for a moment, then he said quietly and distinctly: 'Giles — Giles, I am deeply sorry about this, but I must act.' His throat seemed tight, and he coughed to clear it before adding, 'Everything I have seen today, every instinct in my body, tells me to act.' In his turn, he shrugged; a smaller, more apologetic movement. There is no justifiable reason for this mission which outweighs its inherent risks to men, boat, or security. I have no other choice.'

'You'll never obtain authority to override StratAn, MoD and NATO.'

'I do not need to. This intelligence mission is on the point of going critical. I shall, therefore, invoke an ETNA order. I shall apply to the foreign secretary to make Proteus's mission an SIS operation, and then I shall cancel it and recall the submarine.'

Pyott was almost visibly shaking with fury. When Aubrey finished speaking, the silence of the huge room pressed in upon the tight group beneath the map; silence lapping against them like waves.

'Be damned to you, Aubrey,' Pyott said at last. 'I'll oppose you every inch of the way.'

Aubrey regarded him for a moment. There was nothing conciliatory he could say, no palliative he even wished to offer. He said, 'It should not take long. I expect to return later this afternoon with the appropriate authority — authority to stop this foolish school prefects' prank!'

Chapter Four: CLOSING

'Kenneth — I'm with the minister now.'

'Yes, Richard.' Cunningham had called him on a scrambled line direct from the Foreign Office.

'Your request for special status — the ETNA order —'

Aubrey grasped at Cunningham's hesitation. 'C' would have talked to one of the ministers of state, and undoubtedly to the Foreign Secretary directly after lunch. As a Permanent Under-Secretary, the director of the intelligence service could command such immediate access, as might Aubrey himself, whose civil service rank was Deputy Under-Secretary. However, Cunningham had chosen to represent Aubrey's case himself, and alone. It appeared he had failed to convince the politicans.

'Yes, Richard?' Aubrey repeated, prompting his superior.

The Secretary of State has agreed to your request. The Admiralty has been informed of the decision. “Chessboard Counter” is, as of three-fifteen this afternoon, an SIS intelligence operation.'

Aubrey's sigh of relief must have been audible to Cunningham. 'Thank you, Richard,' he said. He wanted to