Operation: North Sea

- 18 -

Seton spoke up.

“When it gets within a mile of us, switch off the beacon.”

“Why?” Green asked, and Banks knew it was high time he put down some ground rules.

“Because he said so,” he said to Green. “You have your orders, kindly follow them. We don’t have time to explain every action we’re going to need to take in the next few minutes and things will go a lot more smoothly if you let us get on with it. The auld man knows what he’s doing. Expert, remember?”

Banks wasn’t at all sure that was entirely true… but he wasn’t about to tell Green that.

He was glad to see Green back down and when the blip showed that the beast was within a mile, the sub captain gave the order to turn off the beacon.

Relative silence fell over the sub.

“Five hundred yards,” the radar operator said. “Four hundred.”

“It’s going to hit us,” Green said. “Prepare for impact.”

“No, it’s heading for the castle,” Seton said. “Look.”

The sub seemed to rise and fall as if taken by a swell then it became clear on looking at the screens that Seton was right—the broad silvery back of the beast showed clearly between them and the castle ruin. It came up out of the water, beaching itself in the curved, cliff-lined, bay to the north of the castle rock and settling into a coil that almost filled all the space available to it. The great head rested on the edge of the cliffs, almost level with the highest point of the ruins.

“Arm the Spearfish,” Green said.

“No,” Seton replied almost immediately. “We can’t fire here. We’re too close to the town. I told you, I have a plan. Can we broadcast by air as well as by sea?”

Green looked like he might argue but Banks gave him the cold stare, and the sub captain once again backed down.

“Yes, we can do that,” he said, grudgingly.

Seton held up his phone.

“I have an audio file on this that I need to be broadcast on a continuous loop.”

Green motioned towards the operators.

“One of my men will help with that,” he said, and pointedly turned his back on Seton, as if washing his hands of the matter.

“You’re up, wee man,” Banks said. “I hope you’re right.”

“You and me both, Cap,” Seton replied and stepped over to the operator’s desk.

In the meantime, Banks kept an eye on the screen. The beast was showing every sign of settling down in position, as if it had found a comfortable spot.

“We’ve got company,” one of the operators said. “Duke class frigate, two miles south and closing.”

“Tell them to back off. We’ve got this,” Banks said.

Again, Green looked like he wanted to argue but something in Bank’s stare dissuaded him, and he gave the order, reluctantly, while Seton busied himself at the console setting up the audio loop.

“Ready to go,’ the older man said a few minutes later.

“It’s your show, Sandy, you give the order,” Banks replied.

Sandy grinned.

“Make it so,” he said and pointed at the screen.

The now familiar chant echoed through the sub.

He sleeps and he dreams with the fish far below.

He dreams and he sings in the dark.

“What nonsense is this now?” Green said.

“‘However daft it seems’, that’s what your orders said, was it not?” Banks replied. “Just keep quiet and watch. I’ve told you, the man knows what he’s doing.”

Banks studied the screen closely. The beast’s head came up and cocked, almost comically, to one side as if it was listening.

He sleeps and he sings and he dreams far below.

The huge head shook, like a dog shedding water then dropped to rest again on the castle rock. The huge tail rose slowly, and descended again, slapping the water along the shore.

Then it was still.

And the Dreaming God is singing where he lies.

“It’s working,” Seton said, almost a shout. “Look, it’s working.”

Banks wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t been looking directly at it, and even then, watching on a screen made it look more like a big-budget effect than he would have liked. But the solidity of the beast was definitely in question; it faded, like a developing photograph running in reverse, the color leeching out of it until the rocks of the cliff behind it could be seen showing through.

The beast’s wailing song rose up, somehow audible even here in the sub, a mournful sigh more than a song, fading even as the beast faded.

“It’s working,” Seton shouted again.

Then the captain of the frigate to their south did something really stupid.

He opened fire on the beast.

They didn’t hear the shot, only saw the result, an explosion of rock and earth and smoke and debris that fell over the beast like a shroud. One of the sub’s crew yelled in triumph but it was short lived. A breeze blew the aftermath of the explosion away, revealing the beast, still there, uncoiling now from its snug in the bay and gaining solidity again by the minute despite the fact that Seton’s chant was still going out across the waves.

“The stupid bastard,” Seton said. “We had it. We were that close.”

“Harm’s done now,” Green said and barked out an order. “Arm the Spearfish. Let’s give it something bigger to play with. And please, somebody, switch off that fucking singing; it’s getting right on my tits.”

But they weren’t going to be given time to fire a torpedo; before anyone had a chance to put the captain’s orders into action, the beast launched itself out of the bay, its tail taking a large chunk of cliff-face with it as it left. It headed, faster than any torpedo, directly out to sea and straight for the frigate.

“Get me eyes on that boat,” Green shouted.

By the time the scope rotated and they had a view of the frigate, it was too late; the serpent had already reached it. The frigate fired one more round that hit the beast in the belly and had as much effect as a pea-shooter against a stone wall, then the creature rose up out of the water, towered high above the vessel then simply let itself fall. The frigate broke in half midship under the weight, the rear end going down fast. The serpent took more time with the front end and superstructure, dismantling it in a similar manner that they had seen it do to the rig the night before, tossing bits of metal weighing tons high in the air like confetti, but in a matter of seconds the frigate was gone. As the remains sank, so too did the serpent, as if following its prey down to the depths.

There were no survivors left behind.

“Do you still have it on radar?” Green shouted.

“Aye, sir, but it’s moving away fast.”

“Then get after it; full power. We can’t lose it now.”

“You need to let me try again,” Seton said. “We were so close.”

“I need to do no such thing,” Green replied. “I’ve gone along with your nonsense long enough. We’re going to get it out into open water and nuke the bastard.”

“What are you armed with?” Banks asked.

“Four Trident IIs. Each missile carries four Mk-5 RVs with four hundred and fifty-five kiloton W88 warheads. That’s about thirty Hiroshimas each in layman’s terms.”

“Fuck me sideways,” Wiggo said.

“Bend over, the missile’s ready to go,” Green replied with a grim smile. “You’ve had your turn, gentlemen. Now please stand aside. This one’s all mine.”