Chapter 18

Archie had had time to reflect on his team for the mission, and their performances within the target shooting the week before. All of his regular colleagues had succeeded in their training but he was concerned by the attitude demonstrated by one of the potential candidates.

Petty Officer Stuart Betts had reacted badly to failing on the accuracy of his shooting. Archie had detected some noticeable disdain from him since the end of the elimination.

Whenever Archie had tried to talk to Betts, he had avoided eye contact or walked off in the opposite direction.

Archie finished making his cup of tea. He added just a trickle of milk and let the mug rest as he liked his tea strong. He turned and gazed out of his apartment. He had invested in one of the new purpose built flats at Gunwharf Quays close to the Millennium tower on the waterfront of Portsmouth Harbour. The view was impressive, he could see across the waterfront to Gosport and take in all the comings and goings of small craft entering and exiting this narrow stretch of water.

Down below to his left were the historic remnants of what much of Portsmouth would have appeared like prior to the significant bombing in the Second World War. The cobbled narrow streets and overhanging ancient properties sitting on the sandbank making up Portsmouth Hard made it easy to imagine the press-ganging that had occurred hundreds of years before, where unwilling men were signed up to the numerous naval voyages which departed from this historic port.

To his right Archie could see the masts of the old tall ships. The historic Warrior, one of the most important and first metal clad warships and the Victory, Nelson’s Flagship. The most historic of them all, though, lay within a white roofed warehouse. She had been dredged up from the seabed within sight of Southsea Castle with Prince Charles taking a strong interest, and was known as Henry VIII’s Mary Rose.

Archie could not concentrate on the view. He rarely fell out with people but he believed that this man had not given him a chance. Stuart Betts was definitely one to watch as he was already showing signs of completely erratic behaviour. It had reminded him of his relationship with his brother when he had been growing up.

Brought up in Norfolk, close to the Broads, Archie had always loved water. As a toddler, he was forever told that he had run towards it. Never one to shy away from things, all he had wanted to do was splash around and share his enjoyment by soaking as many other people as possible. This had included his younger brother Ben who was not so keen on water. Ben had let out his howls and screams and inevitably cried when his older sibling took delight at splashing in his direction.

Archie had grown up relishing sailing on those Broads. He would help out and crew one of the dinghies used at Wroxham Broad, enjoying the surroundings with the swans, coots and myriad of ducks always seeming to be in the way of the boats, but never quite being mown down. He had often sailed past the couple of bird islands which humans entered at their own risk.

In the latter stages of primary school, he had pushed his younger brother Ben onto one of the bird islands, having rowed across the few metres from the shore. Sure enough, his four feet tall brother was soon surrounded by geese and swans all trying to peck him off their patch of land. Archie was waiting for the cries of anguish and he was not disappointed. He had set himself up so his brother needed him. The daring rescue of Ben from the bird pecking island was one of a number of family stories that none of the Malcolms would forget.

Archie took a deep swallow from his piping hot, sugarless tea. People thought of him as a fitness fanatic, but he just took care of himself. Perhaps it would do him good to be distracted for at least five minutes. He turned back to the equipment within his flat.

Archie had a couple of scopes so that he could zoom in on the day to day happenings of the Solent. He had always enjoyed the ongoing life of the sea and all of the associations with it.

As he looked through the long telescopic lens he homed in on the hovercraft which had covered most of the distance from Southsea Beach to Ryde on the Isle of Wight. The hovercrafts were an impressive sight. Each of the crafts would literally deflate their air cushion just off the Southsea promenade and the huge fans at their rear would slowly be wound down.

All of this activity could not distract Archie from the issue in his mind. Naval HQ had become aware of coded radio traffic. They did not know what it meant but it involved illegal goods and their overall mission to counter the current ferrying of illegal narcotics into UK borders. His team had been ordered to make an attack against an identified control centre located within the Alps. Archie’s superiors had stated that it needed to be quietly put out of action. Quietly seemed to be the important word.

There were too many unanswered questions and Archie’s mind raced through them. Who was the perpetrator? What exactly was this control centre? How many people were based there? What were their defences and what would Archie and his team be up against? How would the answers affect Archie’s method of attack?

Archie’s head began to spin, and he moved the telescope onto a group of three sailing boats which were cruising past the main entrance to Haslar marina.