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They switched the radio to Angus’ headgear and he, the gunner, and Xian had a three-way conversation as Angus assisted the ailing man along the narrow corridor to the missile bay, under the Korean’s direction. Rory followed with the bags of gear.
“Shut the hatch.” Angus’ voice crackled through Rory’s headgear.
Rory placed the bags on the floor of the missile bay, turned and then ran up the ladder and grabbed the hatch handle. He glanced across the loch in the camp’s direction. Silhouettes of his people, small in the distance, lined up in front of their campfire. They faced the submarine. Siobhan’s figure caught his eye. He waved, and she waved back. It would be the last time he saw her. He slid down the ladder and passed the other submariner, the helmsman, who now sat behind a small wheel-like steering contraption next to what seemed to be a gearstick. The boat’s steering mechanism—one for side-to-side and one for up-and-down. They looked familiar from the glance he’d managed of the how-to-drive-a-sub manual Murray had printed out when they were in Oxford.
Angus strode toward him as he made his way back to where the knobs and dials were. “The hatch is closed?”
Rory gave a thumbs up.
“You sure?”
“As sure as I can be, not being a trained submariner.”
“Good. Now I need to set the co-ordinates to get us through the narrow opening and start our journey out of this loch. We need Xian again.” Angus spoke louder into his headgear once more. “Xian, please ask the helmsman to get us out of the loch and into the ocean.”
Angus traipsed to the submariner and the conversation in Mandarin resumed. This time the helmsman relayed the co-ordinates to Xian who gave them in English to Angus.
“Okay, I know that from the manual,” Angus said after Xian’s latest message. “One of us has to be in the engine room to man the engines and be the accelerator to get this boat moving.”
“I’ll go.” Rory volunteered.
“No, I’ll go. I want you to navigate. Once I’ve accelerated, we should be okay, and I can go back to working on the detonators.” Angus viewed the array of knobs and numbers at the navigation panel. “I can’t read the symbols. They’ve stuck Korean over the Russian knobs. I need the helmsman to put in the numbers. Come here, Rory.” Angus indicated to the helmsman. “Help me get him to this board where he can punch them in.”
Rory helped the man from his narrow seat and walked the short paces with him while Angus got Xian to ask him to set the co-ordinates. The helmsman pushed a couple of buttons then Rory supported him back to his post where he resumed guiding the vessel out.
“Come over here, Rory. You’ve got a job to do,” Angus said.
Rory moved closer to Angus who pointed to a board. The lit screen was green and had a lighter green line which moved around in a circle, like a clock with a crazy hand spinning constantly. There was a large section of lighter green to their right. The screen emitted a pip sound.
“The radar’s still working. If we get near any big blobs, alert him.” Angus pointed to the helmsman. “Or call me, okay?”
“What about that?” Rory put his finger on a blob on the right of the screen.
“It’s the pier we just left.” Angus turned and ran back to where the other North Korean sat. Angus and Xian’s conversation filtered through Rory’s headphones and he could faintly hear the submariner’s voice travelling along the narrow corridor which led from the bay. Then the sound of Angus’ footsteps came toward him.
“I’m going to the engine room to accelerate and get this vessel moving a wee bit faster.” Angus stepped down a steep ladder to a lower section of the submarine.
Moments later everything began to vibrate, and Rory became aware of a sensation of forward motion.
“So, there’s only two missiles.” Angus’ voice came through Rory’s headphones. “I don’t think I want to know where they sent the others. Surely, we would have heard if there were any nuclear strikes nearby us. Scotland and the UK, that is. The Geiger counter tells me only one is crackling to the max. The other is probably from the radiation surrounding it. Rory! Can you hear me?”
“Aye,” Rory shouted into his mic, trying to not take his eye off the screen for long.
“So, I only have to convert one.”
“Oh, good. What does that mean?”
“I have to change one from impact detonation to timer detonation. I’ll wake the other one up and it will go off with this one.” Angus’ words whooshed through Rory’s headphones like the sound of a wind over Bhienn Fionn. “I’ll set it for eight hours. That’ll get us out of The Minch and well into the North Atlantic before she blows.”
“Speaking of The Minch and geographical things such as that, there is a big blob on either side of us coming up. I think we need our submariner; he can navigate. He can do that, can’t he? Och, I’m sure it needs two of them to drive this thing, unless my friend the helmsman can give me a crash course.”
“Help me bring him back then.”
Angus came up from the engine room then ran with Rory to the Korean in the torpedo bay. Two tubes from the wall were open and a definite missile-looking object was half out of the top one.
“Is that safe to leave?”
“Oh. Right. I’ll put it back in its bay. Help me, would you?” Angus reached up to the missile in question.
Rory helped Angus gently push the missile back into its tube and Angus shut it tight.
“Once we’re through the heads of Loch Ewe, I’ll work on it. Let’s get Dae-Jung back to the bridge for this part. You okay to help?”
“Aye. First name basis now, are we?”
Angus grinned.
He was enjoying this. Gave him purpose, maybe.
“Oh, by the way. The nuke is made in Pakistan,” Angus said from the other side of Dae-Jung as they both almost carried the North Korean back to the bridge.
“And that means?” Rory navigated the narrow corridor, trying not to snag his suit on any of the nobs and pipes that lined the walls.
“It’s dodgy. Don’t know if the timer will work when I set it.”
When they entered the bridge, the helmsman was pointing the previously abandoned K5 at them. Dae-Jung spoke short and sharp to the grim-faced and weakening helmsman. He replied to Dae-Jung in between faltering breaths, still pointing the handgun in their direction. Their conversation continued with orders, alternating with pleading, from Dae-Jung.
Rory’s pulse thumped in his ears. Sweat trickled down his back as the interaction between the two Koreans continued. If only he spoke Korean. He imagined the man felt he would betray his country. Or maybe he wished to die in his own way, a way which didn’t involve being blown up.
Get a grip, man. We are all in the same boat. Rory’s cheek tightened with the start of a wry smile, but he suppressed it. Not the time or the place for humour—of any kind.
The Korean helmsman lowered the handgun and began to weep. Rory released the breath he’d been holding in as he crept toward the man and reached for the pistol, smiling and nodding as he did so. The man surrendered the weapon as his shoulders shook. They risked death on this mission, but the Koreans had already begun that final journey.
Rory’s heart rate accelerated as he placed Dae-Jung in front of the navigation equipment. Dae-Jung, with the help of the helmsman, set about negotiating the underwater terrain and moving the submarine through the body of water, The Minch. The submarine hadn’t submerged yet and Rory supposed it was similar to sailing a boat through headlands. A very big boat which was mostly underwater.
Dae-Jung had perked up a little. Probably due to their presence and the fact they were going to solve his, and Scotland’s, serious problem. Possibly. And his helmsman was now fully co-operating.
Sweat dribbled into Rory’s eyes. He blinked it away, unable to wipe his face in the headgear.
“How are we going to be sure it goes off, then?” He dreaded the answer.
“I’ll make sure.” Angus was matter-of-fact.
“No.” Rory shook his head.
Angus looked at him through the visor of his headgear.
“Yes,” Angus said firmly. A tone like it had never come from Angus. He was almost rude, which wasn’t like him.
“No. The Community needs you and your brains, Angus.”
“And it doesn’t need you and your leadership, Rory?”
“There’s always another soldier, but not everyone has your intelligence, Angus.”
“Rory, you don’t have to be the hero and sacrifice all. You’re not your father. No one expects you to be. And you’re not just another soldier, Ruairidh. You are a leader. Our leader. People would follow you to the death if you asked them.”
Rory shook his head. He’d heard the don’t have to be a hero speech once already today. And Angus was getting serious with his estimates of him as a leader. He’d used the Gaelic word for his name, which meant king. What Angus hinted at... he shook his head once more.
“Your life is good now.” Angus continued. “Think of Ms Kensington-Wallace. You love her. She loves you. Any fool can see it. Even a person like me, to whom love is off-the-radar, can see it.”
Rory twisted his mouth. Why should Angus think he has to do it? Why should anyone? Wasn’t a leader meant to face sacrifice and choose it, if it could possibly save his people, the ones he loved? Wasn’t it his duty as the leader Angus says he is? To see it through to the end, no matter what the end is?
Doesn’t the captain go down with his ship?
Another wry smile tugged the corner of his mouth.
Angus continued his determined stare through his visor.
“How could it work? She’ll go back to her bunker. She’s never lived outside of it.”
“She’d do it for you, Rory. I’m certain of it.”
