Chap. 1_flung spume and a stifling disinclination?

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"Why are we here again?"

It wasn't the first time that Frank had asked, but it was to be the first time that Rob had replied.

"Because," he murmured cautiously, "we need to meet Huw. And people can't know why."

"So you guys chose a beach?" Frank responded, "A flat, expansive, completely un-camouflageable beach? Nice going. I can see the logic there."

"It's eleven at night. Who's gonna be on a beach this late?"

"Well you can't be sure there won't be anyone!" Frank said incredulously and started burying his face into a sandwich he'd brought along. "You never know. Anyone out on the sea could see three people meeting on the beach. Anyone on the cliffs. Anyone on the beach having late-night antics. People are weird, Rob. You never know why they're doing anything."

"Well it's what Huw asked for." Rob shook his head in sultry reluctance. Frank was right. But he didn't like it.

He didn't like it when anyone was more right than he was, especially when their face was dripping with lettuce and mayonnaise.

"You enjoying that, there?" he asked, with a slight grin, though it was invisible to Frank in the hushed light of the night.

"Don't you judge me!" he replied, the answering smile evident in his tone. "It's all I do nowadays! Eat sandwiches, pretend to do stuff and get paid a large amount of money!"

"Can't be that bad?" Rob tried to interject, but Frank hadn't finished.

"You see Rob, I knew you were gonna say that. But I'm not like you. I've got an IQ of 175 and I'm incredibly socially awkward. If there's a computer in front of me, I need to be doing things, not just Googling how a dress can be four different colours at the same time!"

Rob sighed. He'd known Frank had been feeling like this for a while, but this was the first time he'd said it out loud. 

But he'd known because he was feeling the same too.

It had been three months now. Since the incident in the hotel. Three months of constant contact with Huw but no response about anything to do with Jerry Adams' so-called spy ring. Or whatever the hell it is.

And now that the entire world thought that Jerry was dead - that made life harder too. Especially for Huw, when trying to explain to his colleagues as to why he'd set up this little group of people to take down a man whom everyone thought wasn't alive, and therefore ever so slightly harmless. He was the laughing stock of the military intelligence.

They'd waited and waited, but no information had come up about Jerry.

Until now.

Rob had got a text from Huw earlier on that day:

SPRINGER

Frinton, you & F.

2300

HD

This was the usual. He'd told them that any time he'd need to see any of them in person, he'd tell them where, who and when. And then just so they'd know it was him, he'd leave them a little header with the surname of a famous 'Jerry'.

It was silly, naïve, and a little childish. But it was a certain way of making sure that it was definitely him.

The second text from Huw had come later on, around 8:30:

LEE LEWIS

Beach

HD

Short, but sweet, Rob had thought at the time. Though he was already getting tired. But here they were, Frank and Rob, on the beach at Frinton-on-Sea, waiting for Huw to arrive.

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