Shadow Hunter by Geoffrey Archer

will soon.’
    â€˜On the other hand . . .’
    â€˜He may not.’
    â€˜Exactly. Something’s up with him. You’ve noticed how preoccupied he is. Hardly speaks at meals. Only smiles at my jokes out of politeness.’
    â€˜We all do that, Paul.’
    â€˜Oh, really? How extremely depressing.’
    His chubby face looked genuinely perplexed. He pushed back the dark hair that fell across his forehead.
    â€˜But you’re right,’ Pike agreed. ‘He doesn’t seem to be with us on this trip. I might try to draw him out later. We’ve got a communications slot coming up in fifteen minutes. Perhaps he’ll get a “family-gram” that’ll cheer him up.’
    â€˜Be safer to write him one yourself!’
    Tim Pike pulled a long face and crossed the crampedcontrol room to the navigation table. Three paces and he was there.
    â€˜Where are we, Nick?’ he asked the navigator who was duty watch leader.
    â€˜Here, to be exact.’
    The young lieutenant pointed to a cross on the continuous pencil line he’d drawn on the chart.
    â€˜The SINS puts us northeast of Rockall and west of the Vidal Bank. In about an hour we should alter course to zero-four-zero to keep us in the deep water east of Rosemary Bank.’
    â€˜We’ll need a little dog-leg for a communications slot before that. Almost due east? What do you think?’
    The navigator pulled out a chart with a different scale, showing their position in relation to the British Isles. To listen to the signals from CINCFLEET at Northwood, they used a long wire antenna that floated just below the surface so as not to reveal themselves to watching radar. To receive signals they had to align the antenna by pointing it towards the transmitter in the north of England.
    â€˜Almost exactly one-one-zero. Done this before, sir?’
    â€˜Once or twice. I expect you’d like an Omega fix, too?’
    â€˜Certainly would. What’s the time of the comms slot?’
    â€˜18:00 to 18:30. We’ll be at four knots and sixty metres.’
    â€˜Right.’
    Cavendish plotted the details. The wire would also pick up low-frequency signals from Omega coastal navigation beacons. He’d get a position fix to within a mile, enough to confirm the inertial navigation system hadn’t drifted. For a more accurate fix they’d need to poke a periscope or satellite receiver above the water, and risk revealing their presence.
    Pike slipped out of the control room and rapped gently on the door frame of the captain’s cabin. A curtain hung in the doorway, and Pike heard a hurried scuffling behind it.
    â€˜Yes?’
    He pushed aside the curtain. Commander Hitchens was at his desk.
    â€˜Good evening, sir. We’re proceeding as planned indeep water at eighteen knots. We have a broadcast we’re scheduled to monitor in about thirty minutes. With your permission, sir, I’d like to reduce speed to four knots, bring her up to sixty metres and deploy the floating wire.’
    â€˜Any other submarine activity?’
    â€˜Nothing at all, sir. We’ll check the surface picture before we deploy the wire.’
    â€˜Very good. Carry on, Tim.’
    â€˜Er, one other thing, sir . . .’
    â€˜Yes, what is it?’
    â€˜I was wondering if sometime this evening might be an appropriate moment to discuss our mission profile.’
    Hitchens fixed Pike with his unnervingly blue eyes.
    â€˜Sorry. Not yet. I’ll brief when the time’s right.
    â€˜From Wednesday we’re dropping out of the exercise. Special op. I’ll tell
you
that much, but it’s not for general knowledge yet. This one really is very sensitive. You’ll have to trust me.’
    â€˜Oh. Right. Okay then, sir; I’ll carry on if I may.’
    â€˜Yes, please. And make the pipe to the ship’s company, will you?’
    â€˜I will, sir.’
    Pike returned thoughtfully to the control room. There