Майкл Ридпат - Launch Code

Sam looked directly at Bill. ‘That was what was so scary about your incident. The Alexander Hamilton couldn’t transmit to confirm the orders for fear of giving her position away to Soviet attack submarines. And the protocols forbade it. The protocols said that the captain should follow a properly formatted order to the letter without questioning it, and should launch his nuclear missiles. So it was impossible to do a reality check.’

‘That is scary,’ said Toby.

‘The Fail Safe Commission changed the protocols in the 1990s, partly as a result of this incident. After that, if the captain didn’t understand the reason for the order or suspected it might be an error, he was supposed to delay launching until he had had an opportunity to confirm.’

‘That was very sensible,’ said Bill.

‘Did they consult you about that?’ Sam asked.

‘No. I had left the Navy by then. But I am sure they spoke to Glenn Robinson.’

‘So I’m on the right track, then?’ said Sam. ‘I’ve just got one or two details wrong?’

Bill shrugged.

‘Can I ask you about Lieutenant Naylor?’ the historian said. ‘I believe he was a fellow officer on the patrol. I understand he died?’

‘Craig?’ said Megan in surprise. Everyone turned to her and she looked embarrassed. ‘Oops.’

‘Yes, Craig,’ said Bill. ‘He was a good friend of mine,’ Bill explained to Sam. ‘We still speak about him in the family.’

‘Oh, I see. Was his death anything to do with the launch orders?’

‘Oh no. That was an accident. He somehow fell down a ladder and hit his head. He died a few days after the...’

Bill realized he had come close to admitting there had been a launch order. ‘He died a few days after November ninth. His date of death will be on file.’

‘It is,’ said Sam. ‘The eleventh of November.’

‘Well then.’

The historian glanced at his notes, hesitating. ‘One last thing. Did you know a woman named Pat Greenwald? A peace activist?’

‘No. But I think my wife knew her. Back in the eighties.’

‘You never spoke to her yourself?’

Bill shook his head.

The historian sighed. ‘All right, thank you,’ he said, packing up his notebook. ‘But I will find out what happened that day on the submarine. I’m very persistent and I will give this project as long as it needs. There were a hundred and forty crew members on the Hamilton . Most of them will still be alive. Some of them will talk. And I have filed Freedom of Information requests with the US Navy and the Department of Defense.’

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,’ said Bill. ‘Genuinely.’

Sam smiled half-heartedly.

‘There is one thing I can say,’ said Bill.

‘Yes?’

‘Good luck.’

He seemed to mean it.

Sam didn’t answer. If his patience had been stretched by Bill’s stonewalling, he wasn’t showing it, but it seemed to Toby he had come a long way for not very much.

‘Hey, Sam,’ Bill said. ‘Are you driving back to Newcastle tonight?’

‘No. I’m staying at the pub in the village. I’m going on to Cambridge tomorrow morning, and then I’m flying back to America for some more research.’

‘Well, how about joining us for dinner?’ said Bill. ‘It’s Thanksgiving.’

‘Er...’

‘Have you ever experienced a genuine American Thanksgiving?’

The historian hesitated, but then responded to Bill’s warm, generous smile. ‘All right. That would be nice. Thank you.’

Toby wondered whether this was just Bill’s natural hospitality which was at its peak at Thanksgiving, or if he felt guilty about being so unhelpful. Or both. Probably both.

‘Great. Be back here at about five-thirty. Lars da Silva will be here. But don’t mention anything about Lieutenant Naylor. Craig’s son will be here also, and it’s a difficult subject with him.’

As Bill ushered Sam Bowen out of the front door, Toby went back to the kitchen where Alice’s sister Brooke was helping her with vegetables. The two sisters were talking over one another in their excitement to see each other.

‘Hey, Toby!’ said Brooke, flashing her broad white smile. She put down her knife and gave him a hug. This was only the third time they had met, but she had always been very welcoming. Of the three sisters, Brooke was probably the one Alice was closest to. She was smaller than Alice, at twenty-nine a year younger, and her blonde hair was longer and curlier. She was a dentist in a suburb of Chicago: whether that was a cause or effect of her brilliant white teeth, Toby wasn’t sure.

‘Did you just get here?’ he asked.

‘About a half hour ago. We’re staying in the Cottage. With Uncle Lars. Justin’s there now.’

The Cottage was the nearest of a row of four small dwellings a few yards further back along the lane, with its own tiny garden. Bill had bought it to provide enough space for his large family when they were all together. The idea was to rent it out as a holiday cottage during the summer whenever it wasn’t being used.

‘Well?’ said Alice. ‘Did the historian tell you about how Dad’s submarine nearly blew up the world?’

‘He did! And about how your dad stopped them. It’s an incredible story! Is it true?’

‘I guess so. Dad will never confirm it, but Mom told us about it before she died. It’s all Classified. I bet Dad didn’t say anything to the historian, did he?’

‘No.’ Toby smiled. ‘But he didn’t deny it either. Why didn’t you tell me about it?’

‘Dad’s very serious about none of us talking. Which is why I was pleased he asked you to join him. It’s his way of telling you.’

‘It makes him quite a hero.’

Alice smiled with pride. ‘It does, doesn’t it?’

‘One thing I don’t understand. Sam Bowen talked about an officer who died on the boat. Lieutenant Naylor. He said his son was going to be at dinner.’

Alice glanced at her sister, who was boiling some water in a pan.

Brooke looked up. Her married name was Opizzi, not Naylor. ‘Yeah. That’s Justin.’

She attacked a sweet potato with her vegetable knife.

‘Craig Naylor was his father,’ she went on. ‘Dad, Uncle Lars and Craig were buddies on the sub. Justin wasn’t born until after the patrol. After Craig died, Dad kept in touch with Justin and his mother — in fact, Justin used to come on vacation with us sometimes when we were kids.’

‘So that’s how you met?’

‘You could say so. Although I didn’t see him after the age of fourteen. Until I went to dental school in Chicago and he got in touch. He was working there.’ Brooke moved the sweet potato slices to one side and reached for another. ‘Best not to mention Craig, though, to Justin. He still gets upset about it.’

‘OK,’ said Toby. ‘You didn’t tell me any of this, Alice?’

‘No,’ said Alice, opening a can of mushroom soup. ‘It never came up.’ She frowned. ‘Did this guy say he had found something out about Craig?’

‘Not really. He had checked the date of his death, wanted to make sure it had nothing to do with the launch. Or near-launch. I got the impression it was something he was going to research. He’s very thorough. He also mentioned a woman named Pat Greenberg? Something like that. Your dad said he didn’t know her.’

Before Alice or Brooke could respond, Toby’s phone chirped. It was Piet.

Toby answered. Piet wanted to schedule interviews with Toby for the following Monday. Beachwallet was hiring as fast as they could.

‘How’s Beachwallet doing?’ asked Brooke when he had hung up.

‘Good,’ said Toby with a grin. ‘It’s been a struggle, but we’re getting there. It looks like we’ve got a venture capitalist on board for a couple of million. We’ll see.’