‘Back to the Smoke, Captain?’ Wally asked Baldwin, wondering if they would be returning to London. Baldwin and Wally were in the BMW, parked on the seafront, opposite Canoe Lake.
‘No, I need you to do something for me,’ Baldwin answered.
Wally said nothing; he would get his orders when Baldwin was ready. In the meantime, they stared out to the Solent Sea where a receding tide had exposed the line of World War Two concrete blocks that formed an historic submarine barrier to this part of the Solent and eventually, onto the naval harbour. Wally scratched his whiskers, his dark beard grew fast and crusty. Baldwin had requested he not shave for a few days, and he hadn’t; just following orders.
Baldwin looked behind him, towards Canoe Lake, then to his left at the drilling rigs in the contrac
