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going to build another five bombs!” He lowered his arms and stared at Kelly. “What are you going to do?” The Commodore raised his not insignificant eyebrows in interrogation.

Kelly joined in the spirit of the semi light-hearted banter. “Well, I could build another five bombs to restore the balance, or alternatively, because I share your uneasy feeling, I think I might be tempted to build say ten extra bombs. Just for my own safety you understand!”

“Exactly!” exploded the Commodore, crashing his clenched fist onto the oak table and rattling the cups. “You see the point I’m making?”

“Very clearly.”

The Commodore was silent for a moment before continuing, “The only way deterrence would work is if each side had a weapon of such horrific capabilities and destructive power that no one would ever dare to use it.”

“Is such a weapon feasible?” asked Kelly.

“Not at the moment. But heavy water, Old Chap! Heavy water! That could be the key!”

Kelly was momentarily stunned into silence, but then he spoke earnestly.

“In that case we must destroy that plant! Now! As a matter of urgency!”

“Well, that’s certainly my view,” the Commodore replied quietly. “But that is not the universal view.” He paused then added, “Yet!”

The Commodore sipped his now tepid tea, not appearing to notice, slumped in the depths of the old armchair. After an interval he broke the contemplative calm. “There is another form of deterrence perhaps more effective than any bomb.”

“Go on, Sir,” urged Kelly.

“Intelligence,” replied the Commodore. “Know your enemy. Know what they are doing, what they intend to do, how they think, what they eat, when they sleep. Know everything about them.”

“Presumably using spies to gain the information?” suggested Kelly.

“Agents, operatives, spies, fifth columnists, call them what you will. Committed people who have the moral and physical courage to give a damn! And it’s not just the obvious potential enemies,” he continued. “Little subversive organisations with grand plans to become big subversive organisations also need to be monitored and, if necessary, eliminated. Such elements can have a disproportionately large destabilising effect on states, even continents. You only have to look at Communism and Fascism to see clear examples.”

“Bearing in mind of course that the Russian Communists are our allies.” Kelly hoped that his observation didn’t sound like a rebuke.

If the Commodore took it as such, he showed no sign. Instead, he responded, quietly. “Yes, Comrade Stalin and his warriors are our friends … today.” The ‘today’ was added almost as an afterthought. “Though from what you say, some of our comrades were not quite so keen for you to leave? What was that officer’s name?”

“Comrade Major Vladeshenko” replied Kelly.

“And the organisation he represents, at least according to Comrade Corporal Dimitri?”

Kelly was impressed with the level of detail the Commodore had committed to memory from his report.

“Spetsnaz,” he answered.

“How’s your Russian, Dan?” asked the Commodore.

“Rudimentary,” Kelly responded. “I did pick up a little during my travels to Archangel.”

“Spetsnaz is effectively a contraction of spetsialnoe naznachenie, meaning ‘Special Purpose Squad,’” explained Commodore Jenkins. “Sounds innocuous, but basically they are an ‘elimination’ squad. Your major is an officer in a team of assassins. Spetsnaz make the Gestapo look like innocent lambs.” He smiled as surprise registered on Kelly’s face. “That said, they are extremely effective, so much so that I would be astonished if they are disbanded after the war.”

“But what would their role be?” queried Kelly.

The Commodore bounced the question straight back. “You tell me, Dan. What would their role be?”

“Surely not intelligence gathering? You wouldn’t need that level of force.” Kelly sounded unsure.

“No,” confirmed the Commodore. “Not just intelligence gathering, though that would be the ‘front’ of the organisation. They would become enforcers of Soviet doctrine. Intelligence gathering by whatever means necessary, however violent. Enforcement of Soviet doctrine within the Soviet sphere of influence, including the permanent elimination of subversive elements when necessary and most importantly, the elimination of the players from the opposite side. We would need a new breed of agent, Dan, quite different to anything we have used before.”

Kelly was silent. Archie Jenkins had made his point, and the point was well taken.

“So, what’s next?” breezed the Commodore, changing the subject completely. “Your own ship?”

“Probably not,” said Kelly, modestly but truthfully. “Perhaps another tour to gain a bit more experience … then hopefully a command.” He paused for a moment, hesitated and then said, “I had wondered about a specialist qualification first?”

“Umm?” Jenkins scratched his chin. “Always useful. Anything specific in mind?”

“Well, I’m a good swimmer,” began Kelly.

“Can’t argue with that,” interrupted the Commodore. “I think your story has shown that to be the case.”

“I wondered about training as a Shallow Water Diver?”

“Frogman, you mean?” The Commodore shook his head. “Could be done, Old Man. It’s mainly a ratings qualification, although there are a few openings for officers, but a bit of a dead end. Not generally considered a good career move.”

He paused, thinking. “There is another rather more exciting option.”

Kelly perked up.

“Ever heard of the Special Boat Section?”

“No,” said Kelly, “Special Air Service rings a bell, but not Boat Section.”

“Ah yes the SAS,” said Jenkins. “That’s the army lot. Used to be the Long Range Desert Group. Good chaps. The SBS, on the other hand, are a Royal Marine organisation. In other words, our people.” He said this with a twinkle in his eye. “Very specialised, and you do train for underwater surveillance and demolition.”

“Sounds interesting,” said Kelly. “Would they take a matelot?”

“They probably would if I asked them,” said Jenkins without sounding in the least pompous. “But you would need to prove your mettle by completing the commando course first.”

“I’d be very interested in trying for it, Commodore.” Kelly was clearly genuinely enthusiastic about the prospect.

“Look Kelly,” said the Commodore, “all I can promise is that if you complete the commando training course successfully”—Jenkins emphasised the ‘if’ too much for Kelly’s liking— “then I will get you an initial assessment with the SBS. After that it will be up to you. The SBS do not carry passengers.”

Archie Jenkins

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