Hunter Killer - Alex King Series 12 (2021) A BATEMAN (fiction novels to read .TXT) 📖

organised crime, of course. The Russian mafia are a plague on the West. The Russian people are fine, but the bastards at the heart of governance haven’t changed in sixty years. No, if Russia were here, it would be to play silly but dangerous games. The Iranians on the other hand, well they don’t have nuclear weapons. For an Iranian agent to be involved makes me feel uneasy. They have a lot to gain, and nothing to lose.”

“But there’s no nukes on that sub,” Rashid replied. “Cruise missiles, various torpedoes, and of course, the nuclear reactor, but no nukes. The Astute-class submarines don’t carry nukes. Those are Trident nuclear missiles, and they are on the Vanguard-class boats…”

King walked back into the dive briefing room. He snatched the empty sheath off the wall and replaced the knife but tucked it down the waistband of his trousers underneath the cumbersome pair of outer ski pants. “Well, that’s what the world is meant to think. Mounting tension with Russia at the time the submarine went missing caused the government, or at least the PM and the defence minister to give the Royal Navy a secret directive. The Astute boats were all armed with the W80 low to intermediate yield two-stage thermonuclear warhead. This is what the US Navy use and commonly called dial-a-yield. Meaning you can dial in five to one-hundred and fifty kilotons of yield. The latter flattens entire military installations, towns and small cities, even.” He paused. “Which means we have nuclear capabilities off all of Russia’s coasts including the Black Sea, as well as the Mediterranean, the Gulf and China. North Korea, too.”

“I’m guessing this decision wasn’t ever going to be discussed in the House of Commons…” Rashid mused, taking up position in the doorway, the weapon held down beside his leg should an unsuspecting innocent round the corner.

“I’m sure no more than the PM and one or two cabinet members know.” King paused. “But the whole bloody world will know if Iran gets its hands on our weaponry.”

“Not likely, though. Is it?”

“The plan is for me to get on board using a submersible.”

“What?” Rashid asked incredulously.

“You don’t know?”

He shook his head. “I was tasked to watch your back and assist if required. Mereweather’s words, to the letter.”

King considered this then said, “If it’s possible for me to get on board using a small submersible, then what if the Iranians have a submarine in the vicinity? They could dock and offload the cruise missiles.”

Rashid shook his head. “I’m not so sure they could offload entire missiles, but they could certainly remove the warheads. The Iranians would know that no international military presence is permitted within the UNESCO green zone, so they would be clear to interfere.”

“The nuclear reactor is a Rolls Royce unit. I imagine they could get hold of the plans if they wanted it badly enough. But the uranium is another matter entirely,” said King. “So, we need to get our hands on this Iranian agent and get him to have a little chat with us.”

“By chat, you mean interrogation, don’t you?”

“Whatever works.”

“Yeah, I just want to make sure I’m on the same page.”

King smiled wryly. “Don’t worry, you’ll catch up…”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

“Show him your phone,” King said to Rashid, adding, “You sent Neil Ramsay a picture of this Iranian guy to identify, let Grainger see it.”

Rashid unlocked his phone with his thumbprint and scrolled. “Hormuzd Shirazi, although presumably he’ll be travelling under another name.” He showed Grainger the man’s photograph and waited while the man scrolled on his laptop.

“Nothing by that name on Aurora’s manifest.” He continued to scroll, glancing at the image on Rashid’s phone. “Ah, here. This is him. He’s down as Ali Vakilov, from Azerbaijan.” He turned the laptop around for them to see. “A marine biologist wanting to introduce environmentally sound techniques for the farming of Caspian Sea sturgeon fish. Caviar is big business, and the world is cleaning up its act. Even in that part of the world. It’s a good cover story, especially as China are now producing seventy percent of the world’s caviar through mass fish farming. There are plenty of countries trying to get a stronger hold on the market.”

“And a nice cover profile as well,” said King. “He doesn’t look traditionally Iranian. I suppose he’s of Azerbaijani descent. There’s a large Azerbaijani population in Iran. They look similar to the Russians, which was why I assumed he was a Russian at the airport.”

“Well, the Soviet Union ruled there for years,” Grainger commented helpfully. “One of its many satellite countries.”

“Where can we find him?” asked King.

Grainger sighed. “There are boats and ships all over the green zone and the projects that Aurora are running are both complex and extensive. He’s not here to aid with the salvage of the submarine, so that goes above my remit, and if we bring this to Aurora’s attention, then your cover will be blown.” He paused, fingering the stubble on his chin. He reminded King of a naval or commando officer who would normally have been well-groomed and smartly turned out but had allowed himself a rustic look while deployed. “The weather and sea conditions are calm, and will be for the next two days, so the inflatable booms are out and connecting the rigs.”

“I didn’t notice that,” said Rashid.

“Me neither,” King added. “So, can we assume that with all the rigs connected, people tend to meet up?”

“Meet up, socialise, get laid…” Grainger shrugged.

“What are these booms?” Rashid asked.

“Inflatable walkways that are tethered together and to the neighbouring rigs. They form a ring. Most people do a circuit for fitness and a change of scene. They have wire handrails and flashing beacons to alert boats. Sometimes they are down for a week, in most cases they are not out for weeks at a time.”