by J. S. Law
Suddenly there was air.
Aaron stood in front of her and released the straps in a single movement, pulling the mask up and over her head.
Dan gasped, bending double, her mouth wide.
‘Jesus,’ she said.
‘You’re OK,’ said Aaron. ‘You’re OK. It takes a bit of getting used to, that’s all. We’ll practise again.’
‘That thing’s bloody dangerous,’ she said, trying to smile and recover her breath at the same time.
‘That thing is the single most important piece of lifesaving equipment on the submarine,’ sounded a familiar voice from behind Aaron.
Dan spun around to see the Chief Stoker leaning against the back of one of the missile tubes near the entry hatch. His face looked odd, uneven, as he smirked at her.
‘Yes, thank you, chief,’ said Dan, standing up and wiping her brow.
Aaron patted her once on the shoulder. ‘Practise,’ he said. ‘It’s easy once you get the hang of it. Everyone struggles at first.’
Dan ignored him, instead maintaining eye contact with the Chief Stoker.
‘Was there something you wanted, chief?’ Aaron asked.
The Chief Stoker shrugged and turned to climb up the ladder. ‘The Old Man wants to see ma’am in his cabin before we dive,’ he barked, and was gone.
Chapter 14
Saturday Evening – 27th September 2014
Dan stood with Aaron for a moment, saying nothing. She had wiped her face with a baby wipe from one of the two packs that John had shoved into her holdall and was already grateful to him for what had seemed an odd gift.
‘We’re diving soon,’ he said, breaking the silence. ‘Don’t worry about the EBS thing, OK? Just practise when you’re alone. But you best get along to see the Old Man, he’s not good when he’s kept waiting.’
‘There are times when he is goo—’
Dan’s voice was drowned out.
‘DIVING STATIONS.’ The order was called over the main broadcast.
It made Dan jump as the general alarm, like an angry klaxon, sounded immediately afterwards, three loud blasts before the main broadcast carried on seamlessly. ‘DIVING STATIONS, DIVING STATIONS. OPEN UP FOR DIVING, UNCOTTER FORWARD AND AFT MAIN VENTS. ALL REPORTS TO DCHQ.’
‘I need to go,’ said Aaron.
He made to climb the ladder, stepping back at the last minute as two submariners rushed down it.
They looked at Dan for only a split second before going about their duties.
One of them grabbed a black handset from near to the hatch and spoke into it.
‘DCHQ, WSC.’
The sailor waited until Dan heard an incomprehensible reply laced with static.
‘Weapon stowage compartment closed up at diving stations,’ the sailor reported.
Dan followed Aaron out of the bomb-shop and walked with him quickly along two-deck.
They parted at the bottom of the ladder that led to the control room and Dan turned and climbed back up towards the Old Man’s cabin.
The control room was quiet, only a murmur of functional communication audible. The white lighting had been switched off and only red bulbs gave the room any light, making everyone’s eyes seem like black orbs. Dan hesitated and then steeled herself as she entered the darkness.
She could hear orders being passed quietly among the operators, each whisper repeated back, word for word, to confirm it had been received and understood. She took deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth; she was OK and this place was OK.
A long row of screens was manned along one side, some larger than others, with images glowing green against the red ambience.
Seat after seat was filled with sailors wearing headsets, white cotton pads protecting their ears from the earpieces, and dark microphones pressed close to their mouths into which they seemed to whisper constantly.
Nearer to Dan, several officers stood at the navigation table plotting marks onto the charts with stumpy pencils.
Many of the men stopped and looked at her briefly as she stepped off the ladder onto the carpet and Dan didn’t hesitate any longer than she needed to as she turned right and carried on towards the Old Man’s cabin at the base of the main access hatch ladder. The pillar of light that had shone in from the hatch the last time was now gone and Dan forced herself not to look up at the heavy hatch that blocked it out. It already seemed like a long time ago that she had been on her knees picking up papers at this very spot.
‘ALL COMPARTMENTS CHECK COMMUNICATIONS WITH DCHQ ON THE DC NET,’ boomed the next command over the main broadcast; this one sounding odd as she could hear both the main broadcast, and the Ship Control Officer, who she was certain was the Coxswain, speaking the order somewhere close, but out of sight.
Steward Roach stepped out of the Old Man’s cabin as Dan reached it, almost bumping into her.
‘Steward Roach,’ she said, greeting him with a smile.
The steward nodded at her, red-faced, and lowered his eyes as he shuffled past her without a word.
Dan shrugged, although no one could see the gesture, and knocked gently on the door.
‘Come.’
The door was partially open with only a thick blue curtain covering the entrance. Pulling it back, Dan leaned in and saw the Old Man sitting on his chair facing his desk.
‘Commander Bradshaw,’ she said quietly. ‘You requested that I come up?’
‘No, Lieutenant Lewis,’ replied the Old Man without looking up from the screen of the small laptop. ‘I required that you came up, and so you did. Take a seat.’
‘FORWARD MAIN VENTS UNCOTTERED,’ announced a different voice over the main broadcast, this one sounding more tinny as it emanated from a small speaker within the cabin.
‘FORWARD MAIN VENTS UNCOTTERED,’ repeated the Coxswain, acknowledging the words from his position on Ship Control.
Dan took a deep breath and sat down in the same position on the makeshift couch that she had occupied on her last visit, listening as ‘aft main vents’ were also reported as ‘uncottered’.
They sat in silence for what seemed to Dan to be a very long time. She became aware again of the constant noise of the air conditioning system, which fed powerful blowers, or ‘punkah louvers’, that continually discharged strong jets of cold air into the warm submarine atmosphere. There was one in the Old Man’s cabin, cut into a long piece of square metal trunking, and it was aimed directly at the rotund man as he sat at his desk.
‘Is there something I can help you with, sir?’ asked Dan, breaking the silence.
He ignored her.
She leaned back against the cushions and crossed her legs casually; that did the trick.
The Old Man turned and looked at her, noting her posture and ensuring that she knew he didn’t like it.
‘I gather, Lieutenant Lewis, that you are unhappy with your sleeping arrangements?’
Dan thought before she spoke, taking a deep breath and wishing for the first time in a long while that she could have a cigarette, although she had given up several years ago. The extra thinking time it would allow, as she took a long draw, would have given her some time to consider her response.
‘Lieutenant Lewis?’
‘I didn’t realise that so many people would have to be inconvenienced,’ she said slowly. ‘I had been informed that there were other places I could have slept that would have caused less inconvenience to the ship’s company.’
He snorted, making no attempt to hide his contempt for her answer. ‘I don’t think you gave any consideration to the inconvenience that having you on board would cause.’ He stared at her, his small eyes shining below his bushy, unkempt eyebrows. ‘Your decision not to allow Master at Arms Granger to embark in your stead was a poor one.’
Dan held his gaze and waited.
He was deliberately waiting; she knew it was a standard, almost childish interrogation technique. He was hoping that she would feel the need to fill the silence. She didn’t.
‘Lieutenant Lewis,’ he said, the irritation clear in his voice. ‘I have been forced to accept you on board my submarine. You may think that calling Tenacity mine is an overstatement, or maybe a sign of fondness or endearment, but let me assure you that Tenacity is mine, and my law, and the laws of the Naval Service through me, are all that apply here.’ He paused for breath, seeming to calm. ‘I can appreciate your resolve to complete your interviews and see this through. Indeed, I asked for you to lead this investigation after a firm recommendation, but I insist that you now inform me fully of your concerns. I would also like you to detail to me why you felt it was you and not Master Granger that should embark my submarine.’
Dan hesitated. ‘Sir—’
‘Don’t bullshit me!’ he shouted suddenly, cutting her off and slamming a hand down onto the surface of his desk. A cup full of pens and pencils tipped over and there was an ominous rattling as a yellow pencil rolled across the desk, each side of its hexagonal shape tapping out its progress towards the floor.
Dan leaned further back, her heart racing as she was caught off guard again by his abrupt change of tone.
He leaned in close to her, the smell of stale sweat and tobacco wafting in her direction. ‘Do you think your celebrity status affords you special treatment, Lieutenant Lewis? Do you think that your fifteen minutes of fame in the national press buys you that?’
Dan didn’t answer him.
‘Well it doesn’t, and from what I can gather, and my sources are excellent, your little stunt after the Hamilton enquiry left you with few friends and many, many enemies. So, tell me now, or I will contact Fleet HQ again and inform them that your position on board HMS Tenacity is already untenable and that I want immediate clearance to have you boat-transferred off.’
Dan breathed through her mouth, taking a moment to recover herself as she watched him.
He was glowering at her, leaning in towards her to try and crowd her physical space and intimidate her.
She was certain that he knew exactly how his mood swings affected people and that it was a practised manifestation of his nature, something that he would have been unlikely to get away with outside the autonomous power of an armed forces environment. Her jaw clenched not only because he was trying to intimidate her, but because it was working. Her hands clasped together to stop them from giving this away and she leaned forward to meet him.
‘If you could have done that, sir, you already would have,’ she said, enunciating every word carefully, hoping that delivering her message slowly and deliberately would both demonstrate confidence and hide her true nerves. ‘I am not able to communicate any information to you beyond that which you already know,’ she finished, leaning away from him as though she were doing so of her own will, because she had said all she was willing to say, and not because being that close to him for even a second longer would have caused her confident façade to crumble like aging stone.
He leaned back into his chair, the plastic creaking as he did so, and smiled. His demeanour changed again in an instant. He made a snuffling sound that was first a laugh, and then became a fit of coughing.
‘I like you, Lieutenant Lewis,’ he finally said. ‘I wish I had a dozen men like you.’
Dan ignored the remark.
‘I’ll cooperate in any way I can,’ he said, shaking his head as though they were old friends enjoying a joke.
‘I’ll need a room, or office, to carry out my interviews,’ said Dan.
She watched as he shook his chubby head.
‘This is a submarine, Dan,’ he said. ‘We don’t have space like that. You’re welcome to use the bomb-shop, but there aren’t many private spaces on board here; you’ll find that soon enough.’
Dan looked deliberately around the cabin and then back at him.
He laughed again. ‘Not in one million years,’ he said. ‘Tell me,’ he paused, changing the subject. ‘Why “Dan”? Why a boy’s name? You’re pretty enough. A little plain, maybe, hardly masculine, though, so why a boy’s name?’
‘It’s just my name, sir,’ she replied.
‘Your name is Danielle.’
‘Which shortens to Dan,’ she said.
‘I thought you girls liked things like Danni?’ he asked, looking as though he were genuinely interested. ‘You know, Danni, with an I?’
Dan’s eyes had closed and she had sighed before she could stop herself. ‘I don’t really like Danni with an I,’ she said, trying not to sound irritated. ‘Not even if you replace the dot above the I with a little love heart.’
He pursed his lips and thought about what she had said as though it were a complicated thing.
‘Come,’ he said suddenly, standing up and gesturing as if she were a dog that was curled up on the couch and now needed a walk. He stepped out into the control room and Dan fell in, reluctantly, behind him.
‘We’re diving any minute,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Ship Control Officer of the Watch, report?’
‘Submarine closed up at Diving Stations, forward and aft main vents uncottered, sir. Tenacity is opened up for diving.’
He turned to Dan and smiled again, then pointed to a monitor mounted above the ship control console. ‘Watch that,’ he said and turned away to pick up a handset.
‘Officer of the Watch, Commanding Officer,’ he snapped.
‘Officer of the Watch,’ came a quick reply.
‘Clear the bridge, come below, shut and clip the upper lid. I have the submarine.’
The order was repeated back, with the exception that the last line was ‘You have the submarine, sir.’
The monitor that the Old Man had directed Dan to watch showed the open water in front of the submarine as viewed by a camera that Dan guessed must have been mounted on the front of the conning tower. It was just light outside and she could still see the whites of the bow wave as the sleek black hull cut through the water, peeling it aside like scissors running through wrapping paper.
The horizon looked clear and grey, with only a few clouds drifting across it.
Her attention was grabbed by movement off to her right as two men, dressed head to toe in red Gore-Tex, climbed down into the control room from an access that Dan had not noticed before.
‘Bridge cleared for diving, upper lid shut, two clips, two pins, all personnel checked below, sir.’
Dan noticed two young sailors off to her left.
They were clutching books, each one opened up and folded back to expose the lists of training objectives that they would have to meet in order to gain their submarine qualification.
The Old Man approached her and leaned in towards her ear. He seemed to wait for her to recoil, pausing as if giving her the chance to do it. When she didn’t, he whispered to her, ‘It’s tradition for personnel to witness their first dive from here in the control room. Watch the camera and enjoy the view. Stand with these two, they’ll talk you through what they’ve learned.’
He whispered it all with his lips almost touching her ear. It was as though she could feel them moving and disturbing the air as he formed his words; the warm breath dampening her skin.
Dan refused to back away, despite the tension building in her.
He stepped back. ‘Ship Control,’ he barked to the Coxswain. ‘Dive the submarine.’
‘Dive the submarine, sir,’ said the Coxswain.
‘DIVING NOW, DIVING NOW.’
The order came back over the main broadcast and Dan looked back up to the screen and the outside world only a short distance above her. She swallowed, her mouth dry and resisting the act.
Orders were passed, repeated and obeyed around her as she focused on the screen. She caught some more words, meaningless to her, as she was drawn in deeper to the camera view.
Tenacity seemed to have slowed down, the white wave suppressed as the water now lapped gently against the bow. She became aware of the boat rolling, recognising that it was more pronounced than the ships that she had been on before, because of the submarine’s round shape. Then she was
aware of the submarine dropping in the water. The deck was changing angle beneath her as the aft end of the submarine dropped a few degrees down.
‘It’s so that when the front goes down the arse end doesn’t breach the water. If it did, then the propeller might stick out and it’d just spin and over-speed, then trip,’ whispered one young sailor to the other, his information breaking through in a snippet as Dan watched the sky on the monitor change with Tenacity’s movements.
Then the front of the submarine began to drop, the angle of the deck changing again, and Dan reached out and placed a hand on the back of a nearby chair, aware that the sailor using it looked back for only the briefest moment before resuming his duties.
‘Bows down, keep safe depth,’ ordered the Old Man, now the only voice audible to Dan.
The scene on the screen changed slowly as Dan watched. Her grip on the chair tightened as Tenacity leaned forward.
The grey horizon, and the few clouds that had been there, disappeared from view, and the light that the sky had brought began to fall into shadow. Water appeared at the bottom of the monitor, gurgling and splashing against the lens and moving steadily upwards across the screen as the picture grew darker and darker, until suddenly there was only the murky water of the sea rushing towards her, and a few seconds after that, nothing.
She continued to watch the blank screen, aware of orders being passed again and again, aware that the boat changed angle again, and aware when the periscope was manned and she was hustled out of the way as one of the young officers commenced an ‘all round look’.
