Calypso's Mast

Chapter 29 - Border Protection

Rudd was furious.

"What is wrong with this useless Navy? Why can't they find a simple submarine?" she snapped.

Maddock and Shields stood awkwardly silent while Rudd raged and paced up and down her office.

"They're all too busy hazing each other, playing in their brass bands and dusting off their epaulettes. While they're doing that, the real job is not getting done. Here we have a confirmed threat right on our doorstep and this submarine has weaselled its way in, right under everybody's noses. We've done our job and found it and now this 'Dad's Army' of a Navy, has dropped the ball and let them get away. Goddamn useless idiots!"

She stopped pacing in front of her desk and looked at them.

"I need some more ideas," she shouted and banged the desk. "If the Navy can't find it, we are going to have to go back in and locate them again ourselves. How are we going to do that if the goddamn Navy can't find it?"

More silence.

"Speak up. I need some ideas," she barked.

"Sorry Sandra," said Shields. "I thought it was a rhetorical question. You obviously want a real answer."

"Of course I want a real answer," she snapped." You two have a great team and they're all clever people. I need you to dig deep, and use whatever resources you have. Find that submarine, otherwise we're all going to look like complete imbeciles."

"Sure. We'll get on it. Arthur, let's go."

"And get that philandering Hatfield back up in the air and tell him to be quick about it. Hire some more people and rent some more planes up there if you have to. The more eyes we have looking for it the better our chances," Rudd shouted after them as they exited the office.

Once they were out of earshot, Maddock voiced what they were both thinking.

"My goodness," he said as they walked back to Shields' office. "She must have poured a whole bottle of vinegar on her Wheaties this morning."

Shields laughed.

"I know," she said. "She's in fine form, isn't she? Sorry you had to see that."

"It's ok. I'm a big boy. I'd hate to be the man who's married to her."

"I don't think she's married," said Shields.

"You don't say...," Maddock raised one eyebrow as he looked at her.

She glanced across and grinned. "You thought I was bad, didn't you?"

He held up both hands. She didn't wait for him to say anything.

"You're fortunate. You don't normally have to deal with her. I do, every day. Some days I think she's been drinking straight from a fuel bowser. The atmospheric vitriol is that bad that if anyone struck a match, the whole place would be torched."

"I love working for the government," he said morosely and she looked at him in disgust.

"What? he said, defensively. "I'm being sarcastic."

"I hope so," she said.

"Now, how are we going to do this?" Shields opened the door to her office and they both sat down. "It's obviously an open cheque book judging by the way Sandra is talking. So how can we find this submarine when the Navy can't?"

"I'll be damned if I know," said Maddock. "The Navy will be using radar, sonar, lasers, everything they have, to find it. I'd hazard that it's long gone. It'll be somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, halfway to America by now. If it was my private submarine and I knew that the Navy were after me, I'd be long gone."