Nuke Under the Sea (1)
Back in London, I prepared to move in sync with the Royal Navy's nuclear submarine fleet's return date.
As I'd said repeatedly, the crew and mages aboard the Vanguard-class strategic nuclear submarines were, at this point, nearly the only British people outside my influence.
I dominate Britain, not the British people.
Of course, it's mostly the same thing. Holding Britain in your grip means wielding similar influence over its citizens.
If you really want to split hairs, it's about the difference between GDP and GNP.
On that note, the British people currently outside my influence were truly few and far between.
British expatriates could be handled indirectly through local consulates, and British troops stationed overseas were, of course, people I could control.
In short, even if they were outside the British Empire's borders, as long as they maintained any contact with the homeland, I could manipulate them indirectly.
Thus, to eliminate variables, I intended to elevate my indirect control into direct territory.
Upon arriving in Glasgow, Scotland, my subordinates and I moved to the naval base where the submarine fleet was scheduled to arrive.
About a forty-minute drive from Glasgow's city center, the entry checkpoint at HMNB Clyde required only the presentation of the Prime Minister's seal for unimpeded passage.
“As expected, leveraging the Prime Minister’s name makes things so much simpler.”
“After doing this five times, there are plenty of dissenters, but as long as they work for state institutions, they’ll follow orders quietly. Not our concern, right?”
“That’s probably why the operatives working only within Britain say things have gotten too easy lately. The ones stationed overseas reportedly wish to return to the UK.”
“Hmm? I didn’t get that report. If it’s easy, we can increase their workload, right?”
“Oh dear, perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
As we passed through the main gate checkpoint, Pavel and I chatted idly.
Hmm, I’d been easing up on them lately because things looked busy, and that’s how rumors spread?
The subordinates sent overseas were, for the most part, more capable and important than the rest of the organization.
Naturally, they held greater authority and responsibility compared to those stationed domestically.
But unintentionally, this had created a certain undercurrent.
That staying in Britain was preferable, even without further developing their skills.
This was not a trend I welcomed. Subordinates needed to continuously improve themselves for the benefit of both me and the entire organization.
A mindset content with the status quo would never lead to progress. I briefly pondered a solution.
I decided it would be better to narrow the gap between domestic and overseas operations.
Since domestic operations had become much easier due to the Prime Minister’s existence, I planned to increase their volume.
I couldn’t reduce overseas operations. At a time like this, the organization couldn’t halt its efforts to project influence abroad.
Thus, the only option left was to increase the volume of domestic work.
Since there were tasks that would need to be done eventually, pulling them forward now wouldn’t cause major issues.
They’d be crushed by the disaster of their own making. How could they resent a boss who openly shared the rumors circulating among subordinates?
I glanced from the driver’s seat to the passenger seat and chuckled.
“Other departments aside, the Intelligence Division… well, as busy as ever?”
“It’s hard to find a day when we’re not busy. It might sound odd coming from me, but I’m not sure the system could be maintained without me.”
It wasn’t an issue I hadn’t considered, but unlike the matter Pavel had hinted at, this seemed fine as is.
Even if Delis was away, like during the recent U.S. trip, she could handle organizational affairs remotely, and for urgent matters, I could take reports directly.
The biggest issue would be when she fell ill, but even that was manageable now that I had regenerative magic.
With regenerative magic, I could temporarily boost her immunity, or use anesthesia to physically destroy the problematic area and then regenerate it.
To take an extreme example, organization members could now be cured of cancer as long as it wasn’t a brain tumor.
Thus, the organization was not only expanding its reach day by day but also steadily strengthening its internal foundation.
“As always, you’re working hard. But if anything becomes difficult, tell me right away.”
This was sincere. I had no intention of being a tyrannical boss.
While charisma was certainly necessary to lead the Northern Covenant Syndicate, relying solely on it was undeniably risky.
“It’s fine. Especially lately, there are plenty of ways to relieve work stress.”
“Ways to relieve stress? What do you mean… Ah, I see what you mean.”
I roughly understood. Pressing further would be rude to both Delis in the passenger seat and Pavel driving, so I let it drop.
Once inside the naval base, we waited in the situation room for a while before communications between the naval ground forces and the submarine began to come through.
- HMNB Clyde, this is Vanguard. Approaching the base perimeter now. Estimated arrival time: 5 minutes.
“This is Clyde Command. Please report the number of personnel aboard and the extent of hull damage for docking.”
- Total crew: 128, no change. Hull damage at 2.3%, no impact on strategic patrol. Currently awaiting final docking clearance.
Vanguard was the nameship of the Royal Navy’s four Vanguard-class strategic nuclear submarines.
As the name suggests, it was the earliest of the four strategic nuclear submarines, commissioned in 1993.
“Acknowledged. Surface to periscope depth and switch sonar to passive mode.”
- Surfacing to periscope depth. Switching to passive sonar. All confirmed.
“Switch to Beacon 3-1 Alpha for docking. Maintain radio silence after this transmission and follow the beacon’s guidance for the remaining procedures.”
- Beacon 3-1 Alpha. Radio silence maintained. All confirmed. Disconnecting from communications.
For submarines, secrecy was as vital as the vessel’s life. Even beyond radio silence, crew members were disciplined from casual chatter aboard.
Communications with HMS Vanguard, which was about to dock, paused briefly, but the naval ground forces within the base remained busy.
“No hostile surface vessels or submarines detected in the Firth of Clyde or Gare Loch. Triple confirmation complete.”
“No hostile vessels, but a civilian ship detected. Bearing 330, distance approximately 3 nautical miles.”
“Identification complete. Small trawler. How should we proceed?”
“What do you mean? We appreciate them catching our fish and chips, but politely escort them outside the area for now.”
“Understood. Deploying personnel via speedboat to handle the situation.”
Since submarine docking and departure schedules were top secret, such incidents were common. Fishing boats near the naval base would sometimes be unceremoniously escorted away while out fishing.
Still, since the radar blip wasn’t the red indicating a hostile vessel, everyone at the base was reassured.
But what to do? Three people had brazenly infiltrated the most secure part of the base.
There was no need to use Charm; the Prime Minister’s confirmation was sufficient. For any suspicious personnel, I’d even arranged direct phone calls.
The presence of a Ministry of Magic-affiliated mage stationed at the base made infiltration even easier.
Britain, which sought to employ magic militarily, always stationed one or two mages at military bases, and the people beside me were the Minister of Magic and his secretary.
The mages’ shared sentiment was regret that they hadn’t been informed of our visit to provide proper hospitality.
“Confirming Vanguard’s depth control. Current depth is periscope depth. Connection with Beacon 3-1 Alpha is stable.”
“HMS Vanguard, you are cleared to dock.”
My subordinates and I headed toward the dock in sync with the submarine’s docking.
Accompanying us was the mage stationed at the naval base.
It was hard to suppress laughter knowing they had no idea a perception-dampening spell was active, firmly believing the people beside them were their own minister.
British crew members poured out of the submarine docked at the base. Wasn’t the total crew 128?
To minimize the time the submarine was unoccupied, replacement crews boarded almost simultaneously as the original crew disembarked.
Naturally, I had already ensnared those crew members with Charm and similar methods. There was no need to use it on everyone; targeting the captain and technical staff was sufficient.
Most importantly, I had to secure the technical staff handling SLBMs.
Moreover, I already knew what Prime Minister Thatcher had written in the submarine’s ‘last resort letter’.
Who needed Charm to ensure Moscow could be struck if necessary was a matter I had planned in advance.
Next, I approached the original crew members who had just disembarked. At a glance, they looked ragged from their long voyage.
I had already identified who was who. Another of Prime Minister Thatcher’s favors, no doubt.
I approached the senior technical officer in charge of SLBMs and whispered,
“Excuse me, could you hand over the nukes?”