Chapter Twenty;
Deals With The Devil

"Remington's Ship-Killing Service, we specialise in that sinking feeling." Remington answered the radio.

Hunter rolled his eyes. "Where are you Remington?"

"We're back in Australian waters Hunter, don't worry. We should be popping up on your Hammersley's radar some time in the next five days."

"I don't have five days, you need to speed up."

"Well sor-ry Hunter, but the Argentineans are on our backs for flouncing off mid-service and they gave us a bit of a beating when we tried to make our hasty escape. Our motor has mild damage."

Hunter growled. "Then fix it."

"Sure, if we stop in Sydney for the night. Wander into the burning city just going 'hi, we're in need of some repairs. The Argentineans, who are doing illegal drilling in Antarctica, took us out when we tried to get away so we could come up here and hunt one of your innocent little patrol boats.' Sound like a plan?"

"Don't get smart with me Remington, just get it fixed." Hunter slammed down the phone then glared into the empty main office. Where the hell was Tonkins?

***

The Headquarters of the AFP in Canberra were swamped. Claims and death threats against high-ranking personnel were coming left, right and centre. Already they were following up six threats against the current Prime Minister, a futile attempt seeing as it was likely he'd be gone within weeks, but understaffed and under-resourced they were in trouble. It was amid this mess that Tonkin's warning about the Hammersley was taken, filed and then promptly lost amid the anarchy. It wouldn't be found for another eight weeks and by then it would be far too late.

***

The late February sunshine hit Kate's face as she stepped out of her office and onto the grounds of HMAS Cairns. It had taken her many years to reach this point, the place of Commander, and now she had made it she'd found herself in charge of the last of the east coast patrol boats just when the world looked set to fall apart. 2013 hadn't meant to be this messy; it had meant to be the year when good things happened. It was only two years earlier that she'd ranked up to Lieutenant Commander, a job that she hadn't thought she'd get without leaving her beloved Hammersley. But fate had stepped in, especially when the man she had loved for so many years had left the Hammersley to take up a position on a Sydney-based ship, leaving her to rank up and take charge. It was during this time that things fell into place and she'd sit on the bridge of the Hammersley, leading her quickly dwindling crew (Charge left for bigger prospects and Spider took a base position to rank up and to be with Bomber), and plan for what happened next. Another year and then she'd go for the Commander position in late 2012. By 2013 she'd be Commander, be it on base or on a ship, and things would be good.

But then hell broke loose and everything fell apart around her.

Now, passing a few young sailors who gave her a not-so-eager salute and a tired smile, she didn't know what would happen next. She had under her command only two patrol boats and there were rumours of closing HMAS Cairns down and moving them to Darwin. It was a possibility. The Navy didn't have the money anymore that it used to have and it seemed stupid to keep the base up when a better one, HMAS Coonawarra, was so close. She could almost see the papers on her desk when she got back telling her to send the two patrol boats to Darwin and join them. The attacks on HMAS Cairns were increasing by the day and even now the normal peace on the base at midday was disturbed by sirens and yelling in the distance. Kate left it behind, walking right to the edge of the docks and looking out at the harbour. Like many leaders in this time, Kate cursed the situation. Why under her watch?