Operation: North Sea

- 16 -

Banks and Seton had been arguing with the harbormaster when the claxon went off, deafeningly loud in the man’s small office. They’d been trying to press the case for him to broadcast Seton’s chant over the very speakers that were now blazing the alarm.

“I don’t care if you’ve got authority from the fucking Queen,” the man said. “It’s utter nonsense and I won’t have it.”

The claxon kicked in and coincidentally Banks was the only one looking out the wide window overlooking the mouth of the harbor. He saw the wave coming, saw the wide head of the serpent as it came on at speed.

“I don’t think the utter nonsense gives a fuck what you think,” Banks shouted above the noise and waved at the scene beyond the window. The harbormaster had one look at it, took to his heels, and fled.

“Well, that solves one problem,” Banks said, looking to Seton. “Do you think you can hook into their system?”

“I think I can try,” the older man answered and made for what Banks assumed to be the tannoy control panel. He caught movement in the corner of the eye, turned back to the window, and saw the beast start to tear the boats in the harbor apart like an angry dog with a pile of toys. It was only going to be a matter of time before the building they were in became one of those toys.

“Try faster,” he shouted.

He looked down over the quay, heart in his mouth as Wiggo and the young privates made their high-speed reverse getaway. He tried and failed to peer ‘round the corner of the window when the SUV disappeared from sight.

The tannoy alarm continued to scream and the beast continued to rampage. The wall of flesh of its flanks crept ever closer to their position.

“Time we were leaving,” Banks shouted as a fragment of cargo boat bigger than a house passed by feet to their left and crashed away into the dark somewhere behind them.

“Nearly there,” Seton shouted. “This might help.”

The claxon went silent as the older man flipped a switch. The beast paused in its rampage, as if confused by the sudden quiet. The pause was only for a matter of seconds though. With a flick of the thick tail it sent another boat careering like a missile across the docks to flatten everything in its path. The wall of flesh moved closer to them again, threatening to engulf the building. Banks strode quickly across the room, intent on forcibly removing Seton if he wouldn’t move. It wasn’t needed; as he got within arm’s length of the man, Seton shouted out.

“Got it.”

The now well-known sound of the chant filled the air.

He sleeps and he dreams with the fish far below.

He dreams and he sings in the dark.

Banks wasn’t in any mood to wait to see if there was a result; the wall of flesh filled the window behind him. They could be crushed at any moment.

He grabbed Seton and together they barreled through the doorway and out into the night.

They hit the ground running.

They only stopped as they approached the shattered remains of the roadblock barrier at the dock entrance. Banks saw Wiggo and the lads a hundred yards or so farther along the road and he waved to show them he was okay. At the same moment, Seton tugged at his arm, making him turn.

“Something’s happening,” the older man said.

The chant still played over the tannoy.

And the Dreaming God is singing where he lies.

As it had before at the rig, the sing-song chant appeared to have a soporific effect on the beast. Its movements slowed. The small stubby limbs moved lethargically, as if dancing in time to the chant, and a huge tongue lolled, dripping gallons of drool and saliva over the harbormaster’s room that Banks and Seton had recently left.

The chant looped and continued blaring from the tannoy system.

He sleeps and he dreams with the fish far below.

He dreams and he sings in the dark.

The beast’s eyes struggled to remain open.

A new sound split the air, a roar coming from the north. The beast roused itself for several seconds at that, raising its head. That was enough, for when the head lowered again it fell onto the harbormaster’s office.

“Look, do you see?” Seton said. Something had excited the old man, but Banks wasn’t looking at the beast… he was searching the sky for what he knew was coming.

Several things happened at once.

Two jet fighters, side by side, came in from the north, low, just above what remained of the harbor walls.

“Get down,” Banks shouted and threw Seton on the ground, dropping himself on top of the man and covering his ears as well as he could manage. The tannoy cut off as the beast’s head crushed the building below it. There was a double whoosh—rockets from the jet fighters—and then everything went hot and red. Twin blasts almost blew Banks and Seton along the quay, the whole harbor area filled with flame and the beast howled, although it sounded more like rage than agony.

“Burn, you bastard. Burn,” Banks muttered.

He chanced a look, turning his head to peer under his arm. He was just in time to see the lights of the jets disappear off to the southwest and the beast rise up, completely unharmed and as if impervious to the flames. It slithered south and west as if intent on following its attackers.

Within seconds it had gone, the last sight of it a swish of the great tale that fanned a wall of flame along the edge of the harbor before that too subsided, leaving only carnage behind.

Banks stood up and then helped Seton to his feet. They both appeared to be none the worse for the experience, but Banks’ ears rang from the explosions, and when Seton spoke he had to get the older man to shout to make himself heard.

“I said, did you see it?” Seton shouted again, but the conversation would have to wait; ambulances, fire engines and armed police were streaming onto the docks from beyond the barrier and Banks saw Wiggo behind them, frantically waving his phone in the air and pointing at Banks.

When he walked up and took the phone from Wiggo, the resulting conversation with the colonel was almost comical, for Banks had to get him to repeat everything in an ever louder voice until his superior was yelling at the other end.

“There’s a nuclear sub coming up from Rosyth,” the colonel shouted. “It’ll pick you up off Stonehaven at ten. There’ll be a boat waiting in Stoney harbor at nine-thirty. Don’t miss it.”

Banks checked his watch, surprised to see that it was still only a little past five in the morning; it felt like an age had passed since they’d arrived off the rig, but it had only been a matter of hours. Stonehaven was only half an hour drive away down the coast, so they had plenty of time to make their rendezvous.

“I’m coming along,” Seton shouted when Banks relayed the news to the team.

“Maybe you should sit this one out, wee man,” Wiggo replied. “You’re no’ as young as you used to be.”

“You don’t ken the half of it,” Seton replied and continued quickly before anyone could query the statement. “Did you not see it?” he said again.

Banks waved him away again. His ears were a few more minutes away from being ready to listen and he had an idea that what the wee man had to say might be important.

Out in the docks, fires were being put out and ambulance crew were lifting out bodies; thankfully not many, for the evacuation had been almost complete before the beast’s arrival. The devastation to the dock itself however was almost total. Where there had been stout harbor walls and new quays was now just a mass of rubble and receding water, and where there had been boats and buildings was only smoking ruin and twisted metal. The emergency services appeared to have what was left under control. Banks ordered the squad back to the SUV and got in the passenger seat to allow Wiggo to drive.

“Stonehaven,” he said. “And take your time, we’re in no rush.”

He closed his eyes and waited for the ringing in his ears to subside as Wiggo drove out of Torry and through the quiet industrial area to the south that led them eventually to the dual carriageway south. The others were keeping up a flow of chatter, Wiggo quizzing Seton about what had just happened mainly, but Banks wasn’t ready to talk just yet.

It wasn’t just the ringing in his ears that was keeping him quiet; it was the colonel’s orders, the reason they were going out on the sub and something he hadn’t told the squad yet, didn’t know how to tell them.

Wiggo was going to get his wish.

They were going to nuke the bastard.