"You'd be serving your country."
Bodie turned to see the Home Secretary standing close by. "I just got through serving my country," he retorted. "Up and down the Falls End Road. Now i want to start serving Bodie."
Cowley spoke quietly but firmly. "It wouldn't be fair to give you more than Doyle. Temporary induction to C.I.5, one month's pay back-dated. Bonus for dangerous mission. Double for success."
Bodie regarded him, then turned to walk away and found himself confronted by Doyle, who just stood there, looking at him.
"You're crazy," said Bodie. "One month's pay and a bonus. He didn't mention the pine coffin."
"I'll take my chances," Doyle replied. "Alone if i have to."
"Alone?" Bodie remained poised for a moment, then suddenly turned about to Cowley. "I've got to be crazy too, but what the hell....? I didn't have anything else planned for tonight.
Cowley nodded. "Good lad," he said. "Both of you, good lads. Come on, let's get you kitted up."
As they moved to follow him Bodie looked at Doyle. " We've got to be two of a kind."
"How do you make that out?"
"Got to be insanity in both our families, hasn't there!"
"Come on," Cowley called "we don't have much time." There was no banter now as Cowley began to brief them, to take them step by step over the plan again.
No further than the last command post - they didn't dare accompany Doyle beyond that. Cowley gripped his shoulder, mouthed "Good luck," and Doyle was on his own, crawling down the grass slope that led to the moat, his wet-suit whispering against the grass under his belly, the harpoon gun gently bumping against his back.
He slipped into the icy waters of the moat with barely a ripple and sank from sight. All that was left to betray him was the tiny tube of his snorkel, cleaving the water in a small "V" as he struck out for the castle.
Bodie stood on top of the tall hill and peered down through the darkness to where he could just make out the shape of the castle far, far below. He felt the wind on his cheek and looked back to the army truck. "On to the next hill," he told the driver. "If i'm going to do it at all, i need the wind full square."
Doyle's outstretched hand touched the castle wall and he clung to it, treading water, gingerly breaking the surface to look up at the edifice towering away above him. He got his bearings, slipped below the surface again and began to swim along the wall, hands outstretched, touching, seeking.
"It's nearly gale force," thought Bodie. "I've never tried it in a wind this strong," then he turned to where the men waited by the truck parked on the hill. "OK," he said. "This'll have to do." He started to don his crash hat and goggles while the men began to unload and assemble the slender, lightweight tubes.
"I've missed it," thought Doyle. "I must have missed it. Or maybe that map of Cowley's was old, maybe it's been filled in. Maybe..." and then he found it; a mouth, a pipe, part of the centuries-old sewerage system Cowley had said was there, running back, through and under the castle. All but an inch or two was submerged underwater. Cowley had been right about that too. There would be just enough air, just enough room for Doyle's snorkel. He dived into the inky blackness of the pipe.