Davy and José worked without a break. The one generator, bilge pumps and the other auxiliary equipment failed to work. When reassembled, they ran well enough. While checking, José found many of the steel pipes rotten. Davy stripped them while Jose cannibalised parts from other derelict craft.

"Senor Davy, you must replace this."

"I'll speak to Tony in the morning."

José gave the sign of the cross and smiled, "You had better pray to our Lady Madonna. More important, take materials for emergency repairs."

Davy laughed but knew José was right. The boat was a wreck, and nobody but a fool would sail across the Bay of Biscay in it.

Tony arrived early the following day. As was the norm, he was ready to listen to Davy's moans and groans. Wearing filthy overalls, Davy leant against the door of Tony's car and shouted, "I'm pissed off." He pointed. "See that wreck of a vessel. Well, you can shove it where the monkeys hide their nuts. Replace every one of the rotten pipes, or you can find someone else to head the team. You can tell Isobel Alfonin that if she wants to risk her money, that's fine by me. I'm not risking my life until I have new pipes. He paused, and with a black oily finger, jabbed Tony hard in the chest. "Get it done, or I'm out of here."

"I would not recommend that."

He grabbed Tony by his jacket lapels and almost pulled him through the car window. "Have you been listening?"

Davy released his grip and shoved Tony into his seat. Unruffled, he replied, "Big deal. So you want a few new pipes. Look, you have ruined an expensive suit. I cannot get excited over such things. Have them on the quay by midday, and I will have someone collect them. Now, what was it you wanted me to tell William?"

"You can tell him what the fuck you like. Remember, this is where it happens or doesn't. It's up to you."

Tony chuckled. "You will have your pipes, and you can send him a postcard from the UK." He started the BMW's engine, waved and drove away.

Davy watched him leave and then returned on board.

***

Adrian awoke with the November sun streaming through the only porthole on the ship. Charlie, the ship keeper, had opened up the hotel systems during the night, ready for when the crew arrived. Adrian enjoyed a hot shower, donned his best uniform, and joined Charlie for a coffee.

On the stroke of nine, he entered the captain's secretary's office.

A young, bright-eyed lieutenant greeted him. "Good morning, sir. You must be Commander Viper. Captain Welland informed me you'd be making an appearance. The boss is still at his eight o'clock meeting. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No thanks."

Twenty minutes later, Captain Welland returned. Passing his secretary's office, he looked in. "Good morning, Adrian. Come in. Sec, do not disturb. Understood?"

The lieutenant smiled. "Yes, sir."

Captain Welland, a tall, slender man in his early forties, walked across the blue-carpeted floor. Informally he sat on the edge of his desk. "Take a chair."

Captain Welland stroked his thinning hair. "Adrian, I've received a request from the Admiralty. They want HMS Blackbird, commanded by you, to pick up some chap from a fishing boat. You're to transit at the best possible speed, weather permitting. You'll rendezvous with HMS Boxer twenty miles due west of Land's End. I know this is the big question, but when will you be ready to sail?"

"If it goes well, sir, this evening."

"They want you to leave as soon as possible. Keep me informed, Adrian. I need to keep up to speed on this one; God knows why they asked for you. One day they might tell us, but I doubt it."

"Sir, I'd like to return to my ship. The staff officer will be looking for me."

He arrived back to find members of his crew on board. Jim Scott, black-bearded and of average build and height, was his first lieutenant. This soft-spoken man had qualified for command years before but had chosen to stay at Adrian's side. He nodded to his boss and completed the handover from the staff officer. Adrian waited before shaking Jim's hand. "Here, we go again."

"Is this an important job?" Jim asked.

"It is," said Adrian.

From somewhere, Petty Officer James Carroll screamed at some unfortunate to buck up. Adrian smiled. Blackbird was coming alive.

At three in the afternoon, Jim knocked on Adrian's cabin door. "Captain, sir, we have a full complement. Apart from a few provisions, the chef says we can manage. We're ready for sea. But you may have a problem with the yeoman."

Adrian accepted Jim's comments as the first lieutenant and as a friend.

"Have we a yeoman?"

"Well, yes, and highly qualified, but..."

Thanks, Jim. Look, we can discuss the details later. We have a crew. I'd better take a wander and see Captain Welland. Give the team a half-hour break. Be ready to sail on my return."

"In hand, sir. I've spread the word we'll be on our way by four."

Adrian grabbed his cap, and both men proceeded to the gangway. Jim, and the Officer of the watch, saluted when their commander crossed the gangway.

Captain Welland was brief. "The captain of Boxer, Graham Bennie, is in charge of the operation. Blackbird is to rendezvous with the Spanish trawler Allende and collect your passenger. When completed, you then proceed to Pembroke Dock and land him. It's that simple.

"Once onboard, this person will remain in your cabin. He's not to communicate with anyone. On the surface, this appears a SAS transfer. You know those guys; they slip in and out of countries by alternate routes." He paused before saying, "Anyway...good luck. I'll see you when you on your return."

As Adrian arrived at his ship, the dockyard slingers waited to remove the gangway. The moment he set foot on board, he gave the dockyard charge hand the thumbs up. In seconds, it swung clear.

Jim reported, "Ready for sea, sir."

Together they arrived on the bridge. "Engage clutches," ordered Adrian as Jim went to the port bridge wing.

Adrian stared, surprised at the lieutenant sitting in the yeoman's chair.

HMS Blackbird sailed at four, heading east down the River Forth. When clear of the dockyard, Adrian ordered maximum revolutions. The ship vibrated from stem to stern as the two Ruston diesel engines responded. The river was clear of shipping. Satisfied, he handed over to the Officer of the watch.

He turned to face his yeoman. "Lieutenant, would you please come to my cabin? We need to talk."

She nodded and handed the radio control to the Officer of the Watch.

Adrian's cabin door was open. "Lieutenant Bethany Warren. You wanted to see me, sir."

"I do. Come in and sit down."

He scrutinised the young woman in front of him. She was tall, slim, about twenty-five years of age, with short, straight blonde hair. Her most captivating feature was her large, bright brown eyes.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Yes, sir. The admiral's garden party. I'm his daughter."

That's all I bloody need, thought Adrian. "How come I've got you as my communications yeoman?"

"Simple, sir. There was no one else available, and I volunteered. And before you ask, I am a communications officer, and I'm bloody good at my job."

Impressed by her directness and her obvious intelligence, he held up his hand. "Okay, this should be a standard operation, but I need you to be on that bridge when I'm there. You will find it different from being ashore, and there's no one else to do your job. Understand that, and we'll get along fine."

"You don't agree with women at sea, do you, sir?"

"No, I don't, but neither of us has a choice."

"Thank you for being honest. Now I've plenty to do, sir, and I'd like to get on with it."

Adrian watched as she left his cabin. He was aware she would prove to him and his crew that she was more than capable. He glanced at his watch; it was time to walk around the ship and chat with his team.

***

Harry, seated in his office with a steaming cup of black coffee on his desk, diligently contacted senior police officers involved in the forthcoming operation.

Harman-Smith spent the whole day preparing for the most significant drugs bust in history. Once completed, he faxed the information to the Officer in charge. This operation took precedence over any other. He wanted the net as tight as a drum. When the arrangements were complete, they waited for it to begin. Once more, he double-checked everything as if his future depended on it. When the day ended, and as they were about to leave, he turned to Harry. "Fancy a beer?"

"If you are paying, count me in."

They drove in separate cars to the village, stopping outside the Red Lion pub.

Harman-Smith strode into the only bar and ordered two pints of best bitter. Each with their pint, they went and sat in a quiet corner.

"I assume you know Angie's been retired."

Harry nodded and continued to drink his pint.

Harman-Smith rarely suffered from verbal diarrhoea, but tonight he needed company. "If this drugs bust goes well, I'll salvage my career. Paul Adams said as much."

"Why shouldn't it? We've done the work. Now we wait until we get the nod."

"That's exactly it: when have the top brass been interested? Never, they'll be slapping each other on the back when they receive medals and promotions.  are given, and we'll get nothing."

Harry grinned. "For God's sake, boss, cheer up. The worst that can happen is they pensioned us off. Tell me to fuck off, but sometimes you can be a right pain in the backside.?"

"My wife tells me that I'm a pain in the arse at least once a month, but what does she know?."

Harry laughed."I'm going to have another pint. Want one?"

"Why not?"

Both men drank more than they should, with Harman-Smith bemoaning his lot and Harry saying nothing.

It was well past closing time when the taxi ordered by the landlord arrived. The driver returned them to the Centre. Barely able to stand and fully clothed, both men slept in the accommodation for those undergoing training or interrogation used.

***

Jimmy-the-Rat relaxed in a deckchair. Wearing a coloured shirt and shorts, he epitomised the English tourist. A knotted handkerchief would have completed the outfit. The disused warehouse, adjacent to Vigo harbour, was four stories high and in a state of disrepair. A pair of unemotional eyes studied the comings and goings on a small fishing boat. He was content that he had a concealed location with a good view of the entire area. He laid his binoculars to one side, picked up a camera, and clicked off another roll of film. Loading another, he continued his surveillance. Without altering his gaze, he opened his lunch box and stuffed another cold- bacon roll into his mouth.

***

After days of unrelenting effort, Davy and José achieved their miracle. Allende was ready for sea. José never stopped shaking his head when he found a problem but grinned from ear to ear when he solved it. Davy thanked him for his help and promised that he would tell Tony to give him a bonus.

When they were about to part, José spoke. "You are not like the others. I can tell you are an engineer. What are you doing with these people? Me, I need the money for my family." Davy held a finger to his lips. José understood, smiled and shook his hand. "I wish you a safe voyage."

Davy started walking back to his hotel. His routine was to stop on the way and call Angie. He pressed the numbers on the keypad and waited for the line to connect.

"Hi, Angie, how's life?"

It would be better if you were here and not in Spain."

"Talking about coming home – We should be sailing in a day or two. With luck, it'll be over in four or five days.

"Do you know where the drugs are?"

"No, I'll have another look tomorrow, but I'm sure whatever was hidden on board before I arrived."

"It doesn't matter; let the customs and excise people find them. The good news is the authorities have agreed to your plan. As soon as you're in British waters, the Royal Navy will arrest the boat and its crew."

He let out a long sigh. "It's going to happen – thank God."

"When will they take me off?"

Angie hesitated. "I'm not sure, but they've agreed to land you at Pembroke Dock. Harry has promised to let me know when, so I'll pick you up."

Davy could not ask for more. For the first time in many years, he would be free.

Angie brought him back to earth with a thud. "Just be careful; Harry told me that Harman Smith intends to strip you of the money you made while working for the syndicate."

He chuckled. "Well, my love, he can have what he can find. I've prepared for that bastard putting the boot in. Yes, he'll get a few quid, but Jay's stashed away more than enough for us to start a new life. Anyway, I must go, or someone might wonder where I am."

***

The same perfume filled the air when Davy opened his bedroom door. Isabel sat fully clothed in the one armchair.

"You don't give up, do you?" he said.

Her attractive face no longer had its alluring smile. "Is that boat safe and ready to leave?"

"It is fully fuelled and watered for passage to England. All that remains is for you to find your crew, and we can leave at any time. Why do you ask?"

She was biting her bottom lip. "There's a problem. It seems that the police have started surveillance on my ETA associates. The luxury of travelling via international airports might be inappropriate. So I'll be joining you. A sea cruise and few weeks relaxing in England might be, as you say, 'Good for my health.'"

"The last thing we need is you on board."

"The boat belongs to me. You do not have any say in the matter."

Davy shrugged. I don't give a toss. A quick shower, and we can go."

"We have time. I'll meet you on the boat around midnight. Tony will organise the crew." Without saying another word, she stood and left.

Davy's mind raced. He'd won the jackpot. When the Royal Navy arrived to collect him, they would find Isabel Alfonin, the top dog of the drug cartel. He showered, packed his case and went to dinner. When he had eaten, he left the hotel and made his way down to the harbour. To his surprise, the crew were on board, loading supplies and an assortment of fishing gear. If nothing else, the trawler would look the part.

An enormous barrel-chested man with muscular arms swaggered towards him. The mass of jet black hair that covered his head appeared to join the shaggy beard that hid the flesh on his face. Small delicate rats eyes peered from his face. In accented English, he said, "Good evening. You must be Señor Davy; I am Miguel Vincente, the skipper. Tony has told me you and my boss Isabel Alfonin will be travelling with us. My cabin will be for the lady. You, my friend, will bunk with the crew."

"No problem. Is there anything I can do?"

"You have done enough already, Señor." He turned and looked at Allende. "She is ready for sea. Go below and rest; I'll let you know when we are leaving."

Davy descended the ladder to the crew's quarters, found an empty bunk, and dumped his case. On his return to the upper deck, it felt strange not to be working. After the past week's activities, his need to contact Angie was overpowering. He decided to go for a walk and have a glass or two of wine to pass the time. Finding a bar, he ordered a glass of the local red wine. While waiting, he saw a payphone in the corner of the room. Taking the opportunity, he rang Angie. It rang and rang until it switched to the answering machine. "Hi, Angie. We are leaving about midnight, and Isabel is on board. See you soon. Bye."

Turning from the telephone, he saw a young girl seated at the table where his glass of wine stood. She looked at him with sad eyes. "Would you like some company, Senor? For a drink or two, I can be your best friend.

He smiled; it was the story of his life. He ordered a bottle of red wine, paid the ridiculous price and poured two glasses. Downing his in one, he left the girl sitting there with a bemused look on her face.

When he returned to the boat, he saw Tony on the quay. "Senor, I doubled José's wages as you asked. Ghashide's man will contact you when you arrive." He turned, walked to his car, and drove away.

Later, Tony returned with Isabel and multiple suitcases. A crewman took her to the skipper's cabin.

When Miguel asked, Davy started the engine. Ten minutes elapsed, then five more. Wondering why the delay, he climbed to the wheelhouse. "Why are we not sailing, Miguel?"

"Senor, today is Friday, an unlucky day to sail on. In a few minutes, it will be Saturday, and we go."

MFV Allende sailed from Vigo and met the Atlantic rollers bow on at one minute after midnight. Having checked the everything was working, Davy considered this was an excellent time to go to bed. With the lazy roll of the boat under him, he slept.

***

When Allende began her journey, Jimmy-the-Rat scampered out of his hole to find a solid mobile signal. He used his company pay as you go mobile to contact his boss.

The telephone beside Harman-Smith's bed rang its high-pitched tone. He listened and, on replacing the receiver, turned to his wife. "I have to go into the Centre. I don't know how long I'll be. See you when I see you."

She turned and asked, "Do you want a cup of tea or breakfast?"

"No, thanks, I'll grab something at the office. Go back to sleep, and I'll call you later."

With the regular staff not due until nine a.m., the Centre was quiet when he arrived. He made himself a tea, removed a bulky file from his locked drawer. Aware that another hour would pass before Harry arrived, he sent an e-mail to those in the loop.

He began going over his checklist in his mind and then studied the map of Europe on his office wall. Every coloured pin represented a supplier, pusher or dealer.

Harry arrived and seated himself at the other desk. "Anything you want me to do, boss."

"Do you remember the days when we kicked doors in and nicked the bastard's?" asked Harman Smith.

Harry shrugged. "Life was easier then."

"It was, but tonight we are talking a win, win situation and go to the top of the class."

"I hope so, or we will be up shit creek without a paddle with the crocodiles circling.