by J. S. Law
7
Monday, February 2
“You going to tell me what’s up?” asked John as he pulled the car onto the main drag and headed for Defiance.
“I’m okay,” said Dan, looking out the window at the high dockyard walls and the sheds that towered over them.
There was so much going on, so many things floating around her head, that she couldn’t imagine what she would, or even could, tell John. The fact that she’d told Felicity that she would go to see Hamilton again was there, right at the forefront, niggling away like a headache on the build, but there was more.
She wanted to be part of the new NCA investigation. Knowing that some of Hamilton’s presumed victims were involved, that in some way her hypothesis, her belief that he hadn’t worked alone, might just be true, made her want it so badly. She wanted desperately to be there to prove it. The feeling of genuinely wanting to help, to do the right thing, mingled with the thought of being proved right, and she was angry at her own selfishness for even allowing that to be a thought at all.
Then there was her Tenacity investigation, and it was hers and hers alone, as no one else wanted it. If she was seconded to the NCA, the reality was that she’d need to drop it. There wouldn’t be time to continue as she had been doing, working alone and offline. As much as Dan wanted all that came with the NCA investigation, she wasn’t sure she could give up what she needed to do for herself after what’d happened on board Tenacity, wasn’t sure she could leave it now and ever find closure. That final thought, filled with more selfishness, added to her anger at herself.
“So, obviously I didn’t spot the name Ryan Taylor sticking out of your file earlier then, no? I couldn’t have, because I’m certain that you’ve let that investigation drop, am I not right?”
Dan looked at him, the name jarring her out of her thoughts, but he was watching the road, being deliberately conscientious, avoiding her eyes.
“I take it Commander Blackett spoke to you, then?” she said, making sure the annoyance was clear in her voice.
“He did. We are partners, after all, you and I, and the last time you kept me out of what you were doing, well, it could be said that things very nearly didn’t end well.”
John said this as a joke, in a lighthearted way, but Dan knew there was still something behind the words, a disappointment that she hadn’t trusted him all those years ago when she’d chosen to go alone to investigate Christopher Hamilton. She’d nearly died that day, as had their trust and friendship.
“I’ve dropped the Tenacity investigation now. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get you in any trouble,” she said. It was as close to an apology as she was willing to go. “It was just legwork anyway. If I’d come across anything, I’d have told you and asked for company. I promise.”
He nodded but still didn’t face her.
“I assume Blackett asked you to let him know if you saw that I was still pursuing Taylor and the Tenacity lot?”
“Of course he did.”
“You need to do what’s right, then,” said Dan, turning to look out the window again.
“Of course I do,” said John.
Dan watched his reflection in the window, saw him steal a glance at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention; there’s no way he’d tell Blackett what he’d seen, no way at all, and it made Dan smile inwardly that she could feel so sure about him.
“Doesn’t it bother you a bit, too?” she asked, turning toward him. “You’re a good copper, you know what they’re getting away with.”
He shrugged. “I guess the job’s hard enough when you have the command imperative and the support of the Armed Forces police behind you, but when they’re not, sometimes you just need to move along. If what you think’s true, then we’ll get another crack at them. You can’t move that much gear without it showing up again.”
“Yes,” said Dan. “Exactly. If it’s Tenacity, then why only Tenacity? Look how few people had to be involved on board to bring in almost a metric ton of cocaine. Why not bring it in on an aircraft carrier? A bigger ship? How many shipments came in before we got it? Where does it go after it gets here?”
“I don’t see that it’s worth it,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You could argue that it’s low risk, no one was checking submarines, but it isn’t really, is it? Bringing it through the naval base, letting people in on the supply line, and for what? A ton. These folk are shifting fifty tons, a hundred tons, why all the risk for just one ton? It makes no sense to me. There’s money, but not enough for my liking. There’d have to be something way more valuable for me to be taking that risk.”
Dan was thinking.
“You’re right, I hadn’t really thought about it like that,” she said.
He was smiling as he drove.
“What?”
“You’re never going to let it go, are you?”
Dan leaned back in her seat and couldn’t help but smile again.
“I’m going to try,” she said.
“How hard will you be trying?”
“Not very,” she replied quietly.
“Do you feel bad for lying to me a second ago, then? When you told me you’d dropped it?”
“No. It’s not a proper lie if we both know full well I’m doing it.”
They both laughed as the dockyard passed by beside them.
“I do feel bad about what happened in the New Forest, though,” said Dan. “At the shop, with Simmons.”
“Ah, don’t think about it again. I won’t. You got your bollocking from Harrow-Brown, so I hear, and these things happen. I’d have done the same thing as you did.”
Dan looked at her hands and wriggled her fingers as she thought about what else to say. She knew she wasn’t able to tell him about the request for a liaison from the National Crime Agency, and that was bothering her, too.
“Silence?” he said.
Dan sighed and turned to him.
“I guess I’m just not sure the navy’s where I want to be,” she finally said. “I’m not sure it’s able to take me where I want to go anymore.”
He turned to look at her.
“You’re serious?” he asked, frowning as though expecting her to be joking.
“Yeah,” she said. “The lack of drive to really investigate Tenacity”—she paused—“and some other things, decisions made for the wrong reasons and with the wrong outcomes. Personalities and sad little vendettas being put before making the right decision.”
John appeared puzzled, and the silence drew out between them. Then, without warning, he snorted, laughing as though what she’d said had finally hit home and he’d found it ridiculous.
“How’s that funny?”
“Look, Boss. You’re one of the navy’s great deniers, okay? You like to think you rebel against the system and that it, in turn, fights against you. Maybe bumping heads with Harrow-Brown again has made you feel a little bit tender, but if I were to cut you open, you’d bleed dark blue. You’re like a stick of Blackpool rock, but with an anchor running right the way through you. The navy, the system you think you fight against, is actually what defines who you are. Who’d you be angry with if you didn’t have the Royal Navy? You and the mob, the Senior Service, the Andrew, whatever you want to call this fine organization, you’re symbiotic. I think you’d find it harder to be on the outside than you might think.”
She looked at him.
“Symbiotic? That’s a big word for a master at arms.”
John laughed and slapped the steering wheel.
“And you might be a lifer, Granger, but I’m not.”
“We’ll see,” John said, still grinning. “Time’ll prove one of us right. But either way, don’t go it alone on the Tenacity thing, okay? Keep me in the loop.”
8
Natasha Moore—Early September (four months before disappearance)
“Call me Gary,” PO Black said again.
He smiled at her over his shoulder as he l
ed her forward along 2-deck.
“Sorry, PO—I mean, sorry, Gary,” said Natasha. “So.” She paused. It just felt awkward to call a senior rate by his first name, because when she’d been in training, only days before, everyone was strict, always using ranks and rates to address the instructors, divisional officers, and other trainees. It felt like a hard habit to break and one that maybe shouldn’t be broken. “Gary. My divisional officer is Lieutenant Cox, right?”
“Yup.” He flushed as he spoke, then opened a bulkhead door for her to pass through.
“Shouldn’t we wait till eleven? It says on my joining letter to meet you at ten thirty and then come up to her at eleven. We’re going to be forty minutes early.”
“No. Ma’am told me to bring you up the minute you came.”
Natasha shrugged and followed him.
He had it all planned out and he was her line manager, so it wasn’t like Lieutenant Cox could be annoyed with her.
“Stop right there, young lady.”
Natasha froze, turning quickly to see a guy who could’ve been only a few years older than she was.
He was dressed in black slacks with a white vest under the pristinely ironed white jacket of a naval physical training instructor. The crossed clubs were embroidered on the left chest.
Natasha stood still.
“Yes, staff,” she said, using the formal term she’d learned at HMS Raleigh for physical training instructors.
His rate would be leading hand, so one level above Natasha, but she’d learned in training that not doing exactly what a PTI wanted you to do could be a painful and exhausting proposition.
He laughed.
“Love it,” he said. “Can’t remember the last time someone called me that on this pusser’s war canoe, but keep it up. Who knows, it might catch on.”
He held out his hand to Natasha.
“We’re going to see Lieutenant Cox,” said PO Black before the PTI could say anything more.
Black’s tone was low, but the PTI seemed to ignore him, smiling even more broadly.
“We shouldn’t keep her waiting,” Black added.
The PTI seemed to forget Natasha, withdrawing his hand and looking at PO Black.
“You sure you don’t fancy the Navy Power Lifting Championships, Gaz? I could still get you an entry, and your warm-up lifts would probably place you in third, straight off the bat.”
Natasha looked at PO Black; he didn’t seem to take it as a compliment.
“I bet you could win it,” said Natasha to PO Black.
PO Black softened a bit but still shook his head. “I don’t do competitions anymore.”
“Shame, big man. Could be another article in the dockyard dandy and a trophy for Defiance; you know how the Old Man loves both of those.”
The PTI turned back to Natasha now and reoffered his hand. “LPT Mark Coker, Ship’s Morale Officer. An important duty and one I take very seriously indeed.”
“Tasha Moore. I just joined today.”
“Perfect,” he said, still holding her hand. “Are you a fittie?” he asked, then paused and shook his head as if he’d made an error and only just realized it. “I mean, I can see that you are definitely a fittie, but do you work out, too?”
Natasha laughed, feeling a little taken aback, but she could see he was joking.
“That isn’t appropriate, Coker,” said Black from behind Natasha.
“Aw, come on, big man, I was only kidding. It was a compliment if anything.”
Coker held out his hands, palms up, as though pleading forgiveness.
“Tell him you forgive me, Tash, please,” he asked, still smiling. “If you do, I’ll do you a grat-issue training and nutrition plan and give you two further hours of one-to-one training absolutely gratis, free of charge, no cost at all, except your forgiveness.”
Natasha watched him closely. “Aren’t you supposed to do all that anyway?”
He stopped pleading and looked guilty. “Well, yeah, most of it, but not the one-to-one training sessions, that was the apology.”
Natasha laughed and turned to PO Black.
He looked angry and was frowning at Coker.
“It’s okay, Gary,” she said. “I’ll take two hours of free one-to-one training and accept an apology. And yes, I do work out. I run and I’d really like to do a triathlon. Me and my fiancé both fancy it.”
“Fiancé. Nice,” said Coker. “And triathlon, too. Well, we can help with that for sure. I’ll dig out details on the Royal Navy and Royal Marines Triathlon Association and find out which events we can cover on the ship’s sport budget. We’re in refit for a while after this next trip, so you’ll have time, and we might be able to get some triathlon gear from the ship’s funds, too. It’s always worth a shot and always good to have the ship’s name out there.”
“Cool,” said Natasha.
“Yeah, cool. Circuits are on the ground floor of the old Sail Loft gym on Monday to Friday, except Wednesday, which is bleep test. I run from the ship most lunchtimes, so if you want some company on a run, just holler at me. I got to shoot, catch you soon.”
He turned to go, switching back quickly and pointing toward PO Black.
“So it’s a definite maybe on the power lifting, right?”
Black just stared at him, until he smiled again and winked at Natasha. “Have a good time with Sucks,” he said, and was gone.
Natasha looked back to PO Black.
“Sucks?” she asked.
“It’s what he calls Lieutenant Cox. He shouldn’t do that. He’s a wanker,” said PO Black, quietly. “Nothing to say and always saying it far too loudly.”
Natasha waited, unsure what to say or do next.
“Come on, we shouldn’t keep Ma’am waiting, and you don’t want to do training with him,” said PO Black. “He’s one to avoid.”
Natasha nodded, still without a clue what to say, and pursed her lips. She also wondered how forty minutes early would be keeping someone waiting, but she was silent.
“Okay?” said PO Black.
Natasha waited for a second. She wasn’t sure whether he was waiting for her to agree that she wouldn’t train with LPT Coker, or whether he was checking she was okay to carry on up to Lieutenant Cox’s office.
“Sure. I’m okay,” she said, after a pause.
He smiled, seeming to relax, and started back along the deck.
They moved forward, passing compartments and walkways, Natasha knowing that she’d figure out how to get around the ship in time but feeling utterly lost for now.
It seemed so big, every corridor seeming the same as the last, spaces and compartments everywhere. She decided that if they all played hide-and-seek, she wouldn’t be it, not for a while, anyway.
Eventually they entered another flat, longer and narrower than the one she’d been on previously, but still with a row of doors leading off it.
Many of the doors were closed, and this area of the ship was quiet.
Black walked along to the cabin at the very end.
The door was slightly ajar. He knocked and waited, standing to attention as he did.
Natasha did the same, waiting off to the side. She heard noises as someone moved around inside the cabin and then approached the door.
The woman who opened the door was tall, easily five feet eleven inches, and very broad across the shoulders.
Natasha immediately wondered if her new boss was a swimmer; she looked fit, but broad and powerful, like many of the good swimmers she’d seen when she watched triathlon events.
She was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and black trousers, and her hair was tied behind her in a French plait. She looked at PO Black and then smiled as she saw Natasha.
“Hey,” she said, stepping out of her cabin and offering her hand. “Relax. You must be Natasha?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Natasha, shaking her hand.
“Cool. Very cool. Come in.”
She stepped back and waved Natasha into the cabin.
; “Shall I come in, ma’am?” asked PO Black.
“No, Gary. I’ll call you when we’re done here. Wait at the stores office.”
“I could just wait out here if you wanted,” he said.
Cox turned and looked at him until Natasha saw his eyes drop away.
“Stores office will be fine. I’ll call you when we’ve talked, and you’ll be able to come and show her around some more.”
Natasha watched as Black hesitated, then turned and walked away along the flat.
“So,” said Lieutenant Cox as she came back into the cabin. “Grab a seat.”
The cabin was long, with a bed down one side of it, which was currently made up to be a sofa. It wasn’t hugely dissimilar to Natasha’s new cabin in shape and size, except the extra space was filled with a desk, more cupboards, and a sink area near the door.
Natasha sat down on the sofa and looked around.
The place looked pretty. Loads of pictures were set up on the desk and against the walls, and Natasha looked at them as she waited.
“You found us okay, then?” said Cox. “No problems getting into the base or parking, or what have you?”
“No, ma’am.”
Cox sat down on the chair, turning on it to face Natasha.
“You know, we’re a small ship’s company, and there aren’t loads of girls on here, so when it’s only us, we do have to be careful, but I’m happy for you to call me Sarah; we all have to be friends, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, I mean, yes, Sarah.”
“It’s quite different from basic training, isn’t it?”
“It is,” agreed Natasha.
“Well, you’ve met Petty Officer Black, and he’ll be your line manager. We run quite a relaxed team here, and we all pull together to get the job done. Who else have you met?”
Natasha thought back to the names of the few people she’d spoken to, the quartermaster and the chief in the passageway, but she couldn’t remember them with certainty.
“Just a few others. I can’t remember their names.’ She smiled an apology. “I met the PTI, LPT Coker. He seemed keen to get me involved in sport, and I like running a lot. I’d also like to try out some triathlon.”
“Did he indeed?” Cox was smiling, though her eyes seemed to narrow slightly at Coker’s name. She looked at Natasha very closely, enough to make Natasha look away. “And did he offer you some one-on-one to improve your fitness?”