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PORT
OF LISBON - CH.14
Atlantis has been the subject of countless
films, as has Nazi gold and oil polluting our oceans,
but never have all these elements come together under one roof
as a submarine
movie.
Aiming
for a screenplay 90-110 pages max.
<<<<
CHAPTER
13 RESCUE TOW
THE
ELIZABETH SWANN TOWS HMS NEPTUNE INTO LISBON HARBOR TO PROTECT
FROM MOD
There
was no time to lose. Hal was keeping a look out for HMS
Surefire, a Royal Navy destroyer, sent from Plymouth to intercept
and destroy the nuclear powered HMS
Neptune. The Captain of
HMS Surefire had been told to sink the hijacked submarine in
deep water, even if the 'Terramentals' perished as a result,
giving the reason that they were dangerous terrorists, rather
than extreme conservationists, and the vessel would only be
safe on the ocean bed. The MOD said they had to stop the
Terramentals passing the Astute submarine to a foreign power,
such as Russia. The kill order coming indirectly from Sir
Rodney Dunbar.
KILL BOX
Off the southwest coast of Portugal, the Royal Navy destroyer HMS Surefire sliced through black water, her radar arrays sweeping in rhythmic arcs like the scythe of some unseen reaper.
“Target location still holding?” barked Commander Rachel Booth from the bridge.
“Affirmative, ma’am. Coordinates match tracking relay pinged from GCHQ.”
Booth nodded, jaw clenched. This was not standard procedure. Orders to engage—even from Defence Intelligence—were rarely this explicit. But her sealed briefing envelope had included one line scrawled in red ink:
> Eliminate Neptune. No survivors. Deep water only.
Officially, she was told the hijackers—“environmental terrorists,” the file claimed—posed an existential threat to national and global security. Words like sabotage, foreign handlers, and compromised nuclear assets came wrapped in just enough red tape to make hesitation feel treasonous.
But something in her gut itched. Too clean. Too easy.
Still, orders were orders. The kill box had been drawn. HMS Surefire powered forward at 28 knots, her missile tubes quietly armed beneath the deck.
Aboard the Elizabeth Swann
“Hal,” John Storm said, eyes on the overhead feed. “Status of Surefire?”
“Moving east-northeast. Projected intercept vector: ninety nautical miles and closing. Their lock is false—based on disinformation I fed them from their own secure channel.”
Dan smirked. “You hacked Navy command?”
“I borrowed their arrogance,” Hal replied serenely. “They assumed no civilian AI would recognize encrypted command ciphers from DEFCON repositories.”
John’s voice dropped. “Were they targeting Neptune or us?”
There was a long pause.
“Both. Missile telemetry confirms capability for submarine and surface acquisition. Their protocol designates both vessels as hostile assets.”
Cleopatra’s eyes narrowed. “So they’re painting us as co-conspirators.”
“Correct,” said Hal. “Specifically flagged: 'Storm-class anomaly.' Very flattering.”
John turned toward the console. “Keep the illusion intact. Feed them positional ghosts all the way to the Sargasso if you have to. But log everything. Someone’s going to answer for this.”
WHITEHALL - MINISTRY OF DEFENCE, LATE NIGHT
Sir Rodney Dunbar slammed the door of his private office so hard that a mounted painting of HMS Victory rattled on its hook.
“This is spiralling,” he hissed, storming toward Lord Everington, who stood at the window nursing a glass of Dalmore. “The Surefire should’ve intercepted Neptune three hours ago.”
“Then perhaps your overpriced algorithms are defective,” Everington replied coldly. “Or maybe, just maybe, your enemies are more competent than you think.”
“We green-lit a strike against a submarine housing five British citizens, on the authority of doctored intelligence. If the media sniffs even a fraction—”
“They’ll sniff nothing,” Everington snapped. “Storm is being dealt with. His AI won’t shield him forever.”
Rodney turned on him. “You think this is about Storm? This is about the evidence. Wallace’s files are already being dissected by Parliament. We’re bleeding, Everington. And that sub is the scalpel.”
Everington sipped his whisky. “Then we ensure the blade never reaches the autopsy table.”
There was silence.
Dunbar’s hands trembled slightly. “You gave the kill order,” he said.
Everington didn’t blink. “I gave an instruction. History will decide if it was justifiable.”
Rodney drew a breath. “We’re one leak away from criminal conspiracy. You understand that?”
Everington turned, eyes glinting in the dark.
“Then plug the leak, Rodney.”
PORTUGUESE
COAST, ATLANTIC
Meantime,
John was making preparations for making the Astute reasonably
stable. This includes locking the control rods into a fully
closed position and turning off all valves to and from the
reactor and heat exchanger. Also, closing down all electrical
equipment. The wrecking crew had head-torches and other
equipment stashed in backpacks.
John
instructed Max and
Redan: "Okay, put on these suits, and
use this breathing gear. Together they will give us a some
kind of sensible protection from the radiation."
Dan
chimed in; "And keep an eye on these radiation strips.
When the bars get to nine, get out of there. That is the
maximum safe dosage. Okay?"
"And
we'll stay in radio contact, with Bart and you,
John, suited
up as our backup." Redan said quite loud. Max gave a
silent thumbs up. John also gave the diver's okay sign.
They
entered the stricken vessel, passing quickly into the engine
room, then the outer reactor chamber. It was easier than they
thought to shut down the valves manually. The radiation level
was high. Too high for humans breathing normally.
Having
completed those tasks John gave the signal to go topsides.
"Okay, let's split. He signaled to get out of the steel
coffin.
Back
on the deck, John communicated with Hal wirelessly. Thinking:
"Hal bring the Swann alongside, tight, reversed onto the
nose of the leviathan."
The
Terramentals noted the remarkable level of control John had on
the Swan and crew, with so little communication. Almost as if
he could speak to the ship telepathically.
Dan
was on the diving platform of the Elizabeth Swann. John Max
and Red moved forward. John had thought to weld a towing hitch
to the hull of the Astute, but found there was already a
mooring cleat that would suffice. All they needed to do was
attach a pilot rope, and get that across to the Swann. ....
PORT
LISBON
The
problem would be slowing the vessel down, when coming into
port, and the port rendering assistance. They would have to let go forward, and attach aft.
“SAFE HARBOUR”
The civilian vessel Elizabeth Swann pulled gently against the weight of 8,600 tons and 318 feet of dormant steel and suspicion. The British Astute-class submarine, HMS Neptune, lay dead in the water, its reactor secured but not forgotten, lines trailing aft like contrition in rope.
A Portuguese naval pilot launch idled off the port beam. Lisbon loomed hazy in the heat.
Commander—for now—John Storm leaned over the starboard rail, hands callused from the emergency rope work, clipboard tucked under one elbow like an awkward ceremonial sword. He was no career officer, just a temporary captain with twenty years at sea. But today, thanks to Royal Navy Special Dispensation Order 17/ALFA-GOLD, he wore the stripes of command—temporary, but real.
“Radiological sweep complete,” came the voice from the NATO liaison on the bridge, Petty Officer Möller. “Ambient dose rate on deck normal—0.14 microsieverts per hour. Hull contact zones triple-checked. No readings above background.”
John exhaled slowly. “Acknowledged, Möller. Log the sweep and inform Lisbon Port Authority we are ready for isolation berth transfer. Quarantine Level 2 per maritime nuclear protocol.”
“Aye, sir. Civil Marine Authority Lisbon confirms wet berth 34 is cordoned. Portuguese Radiológica standing by with containment booms and intercept vessel.”
Below, on Neptune’s outer casing, a dozen Royal Navy submariners stood in white Tyvek suits with high-vis tabs. Their boots were bagged. Each had passed through a radiological decontamination arch set up on Calypso Star’s middeck just hours prior—spray, scrub, scan, again. They were clean now. Physically. The rest would follow, in inquiry and confession.
A clatter of boots signaled the approach of Lt Cmdr Rhea Singh, the Navy’s assigned liaison. She handed John a sealed blue folder marked BR3116 Restricted Access — Reactor Shutdown Log, Neptune (Initial Event).
“Official record,” she said crisply. “Shutdown complete. Control rods fully inserted. Reactor isolation valves sealed. Containment chamber at negative pressure.”
“And backup coolant loop?” John asked.
“External loop activated by your team during tow. Smart work, Commander.”
He smiled. “That’s ‘Temporary Commander’, until this tub’s parked and signed off.”
She softened. “Still. It saved lives.”
John looked over at the silent beast they’d towed out of distress, its black hull scarred near the stern where a pressure manifold had sheared during what would be termed—euphemistically—a “localized incident.”
“There’s a NATO panel convening in Brest,” Singh added, “and a special envoy from the IAEA will want access to the shutdown telemetry. I hope your engineers kept logs.”
“We log everything. It’s the forgetting we’re not good at.”
The tug’s radio crackled.
“Elizabeth Swann, this is Lisbon Control. Clearance granted. Proceed to berth. Pilot vessel en route. NATO R-Package 2 standing by for surveillance linkage and hull scan.”
John keyed the response. “Lisbon Control, roger that. Commencing final approach. Redoubt under tow, reactor secured, crew deconned. Request thermal hull mapping for residual signatures en route.”
It would be hours before the Royal Navy dispatched an authorized ocean-going tug to tow Neptune to Brest for investigation and debrief. Until then, she would sit in Lisbon’s isolation zone—dead, yet painfully alive in memory.
As Elizabeth Swann nudged them forward, Storm adjusted the brim of his borrowed cap. It bore a stitched gold anchor and the words Auxiliary Support Command. He stared across at the submarine’s sail.
One of the submariners raised a gloved hand in silent salute.
John returned it. No need for medals. The sea had already written their names.
“The Core of the Matter”
The berthing clamps hissed shut with hydraulic certainty, pinning HMS Neptune into the navy-gray cradle of Lisbon Naval Isolation Berth 34. The base was quiet—just the low churn of chillers, the hiss of nitrogen lines pressurising the sealed hangar, and the distant calls of Portuguese Radiológica moving containment units into position.
John Storm sipped burnt coffee in a steel folding chair, flanked by Lt Cmdr Singh and two engineers from the Royal Navy’s Submarine Reactor Safety Board.
“Pressure vessel temps held steady all the way into harbour,” said one of them, grim-faced beneath his PPE hood. “But it wasn’t reactor shielding that bought you time. Someone welded a compensator bypass into a cracked coolant manifold.”
Storm frowned. “A... what, in plain English?”
“A bodge, Commander,” said Singh flatly. “One that channeled contaminated coolant through secondary lines meant only for diagnostics. It saved the core from going critical—but only barely.”
“And if you hadn’t run seawater through the backup intercoolers when you did,” the engineer added, “we’d be having this meeting 400 metres under the Atlantic.”
“Who authorised the bodge?” John asked.
“Unknown.” Singh tapped the dossier in her lap. “But the part was tagged HMNB Devonport, 2023 Retrofit Batch Sierra-Zulu. It should have been caught.”
They all sat in silence for a moment—each feeling the invisible weight of rads avoided and questions delayed.
From the dock, a NATO liaison entered, handing over a sealed document marked with five red hashes. John stared at it warily.
“Incident Review?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “Summary Findings. The proper inquest comes later. But they want you to read this.”
NATO JOINT NUCLEAR RESPONSE & OVERSIGHT COMMITTEE
INITIAL DOSSIER – CLASSIFIED SUMMARY (LEVEL: TANGO-ALPHA-RESTRICTED)
Ref: JNROC/UK/NAV/ASTRED-001-A Date: [REDACTED] Subj: Post-Incident Technical Assessment: HMS REDOUBT (Astute-class, 8,600t) Reactor Containment Event, Atlantic Sector Bravo-4 → Lisbon Port Quarantine, Level 2
I. OVERVIEW
On [REDACTED], HMS Neptune, a British Astute-class nuclear-powered submarine, transmitted a distress signal citing internal reactor alert protocols (MOD NR-540/B, “Rapid Localised Coolant Loss, Suppressed”). Civilian salvage vessel Elizabeth Swann provided tow and decontamination support en route to Lisbon Naval Anchorage under temporary command authority granted by UKMOD (Ref: TCD-JR/17-ALFA).
II. FINDINGS – TECHNICAL
Primary Event:
Undiagnosed micro-fracture in aft main coolant manifold (Zone D6) of PWR2 pressurised water reactor.
Fracture expanded under transit stress; estimated pressure loss: 18% over 3 hours.
Emergency shut-off valves failed to engage due to diagnostic circuit bypass.
Secondary Containment Improvisation:
Internal line rerouting via auxiliary feedback ports was discovered, constructed during prior overhaul at HMNB Devonport, Aug 2023.
Deemed a “nonstandard field remedy” absent from procedural documentation. Investigation into approval chain pending.
Containment Risk Classification:
IAEA Rating (Provisional): Level 3 – “Serious Incident (Non-critical Release Potential, Avoided with Narrow Margin)”
Reactor now secured; residual radiation at hull surface: ≤0.16 µSv/h (within NATO maritime tolerance).
III. CREW & CIVILIAN RESPONSE
Neptune crew followed internal alarm protocols (NRP-REDLINE-3A), mustered on deck for decontamination.
Civilian tug initiated radiological surveillance, external cooling, and non-intrusive reactor shut-down under verbal RN authority.
No injuries. Five crew show elevated markers and are under medical observation.
IV. NEXT STEPS
Redoubt to be towed under sealed designation to Brest Naval Yard for mechanical disassembly, fault tracing, and prosecutorial review.
UKMOD to produce full timeline of PWR2 part catalogue usage, deviation sign-offs, and personnel involved in Retrofit Batch Sierra-Zulu.
NATO Standing Committee on Submarine Integrity (NAT-SCSI) to convene emergency review of fleet-wide coolant manifold inspection protocols.
Recommendation: Do not permit fleet reactivation of Astute-class units fitted with Sierra-Zulu cooling components without full radiological and structural assessment. Issue interim notice to all allies under REACT-CODENAME: BLUE-ORB.
NATO:
THE CHAMBER AND THE
STORM
The NATO Situation Room in Brussels was unusually full for a Friday.
Screens flickered with satellite imagery of HMS Redoubt docked in Brest, its hull cordoned off by French naval police. A red digital clock ticked down the minutes to the emergency session of the North Atlantic Council.
At the head of the table, Admiral Lise van Daalen of the NATO Nuclear Oversight Directorate tapped her stylus against a dossier marked UKMOD/ASTUTE/IRREGULARITY. Her voice was clipped.
“Let us be clear. This was not a systems failure. This was a procedural betrayal. A rogue repair, undocumented. A reactor compromised. And a civilian vessel had to save the day.”
The British Permanent Representative, Sir Malcolm Henshaw, adjusted his tie. “With respect, Admiral, the Ministry is conducting a full internal inquiry. We believe this was the work of a subcontracted unit acting beyond its remit—”
“Then your Ministry failed to supervise its own nuclear fleet,” interrupted the French delegate. “And you failed to inform NATO of the risk. That is a breach of Article 4 obligations.”
There was a murmur around the table.
The German ambassador leaned forward. “We are not questioning the UK’s commitment to the Alliance. But we must ask: if this had occurred near Rotterdam, or Toulon, or Boston—would we be having this conversation after the fact?”
Sir Malcolm’s silence was answer enough.
DOWNING STREET 10:42 a.m.
Prime Minister Edward Thomas stood at the window of the Cabinet Room, watching the drizzle streak down the glass. His Defence Secretary hovered nearby, pale and tight-lipped.
“They’re calling it ‘Neptunegate’ now,” he muttered. “The tabloids are running with it. ‘Toxic Secrets Beneath the Waves.’”
Thomas turned. “And NATO?”
“They want a formal explanation. And a roadmap for reform. Or they’ll suspend our nuclear interoperability privileges.”
She nodded slowly. “Then we give them both. And we do it in the House.”
HOUSE OF COMMONS, 3:00 p.m.
The chamber was packed. The Speaker called for order as Prime Minister Thomas rose, his notes crisp, his voice steady.
“Mr. Speaker, Honourable Members,
Today I rise not to defend the indefensible, but to confront it.
Last week, a Royal Navy submarine suffered a reactor containment failure. It was rescued not by protocol, but by providence—and by the courage of a civilian crew. The reactor had been compromised by an unauthorised repair, conducted outside the chain of command. That is not a rumour. That is a fact.
Let me be clear: this was not the fault of our submariners. It was not the fault of NATO. It was a failure of oversight—within our own Ministry of Defence.
And so, Mr. Speaker, I have today ordered the following:
A full independent inquiry, chaired by a retired Supreme Court Justice, with subpoena powers and public reporting.
The immediate suspension of all subcontracted nuclear maintenance until re-certified by NATO’s Joint Nuclear Oversight Committee.
And the creation of a new Parliamentary Subcommittee on Strategic Integrity, with cross-party membership and access to classified briefings.
To our allies in NATO: we remain your steadfast partner. We will not hide behind flags or files. We will fix this.
To the British people: your safety was never knowingly risked—but it was unknowingly endangered. That is unacceptable. And it will not happen again.
Mr. Speaker, the strength of a democracy is not in its perfection, but in its ability to confront imperfection with honesty, resolve, and reform.
We will not flinch. We will not deflect. We will rebuild trust—above and below the waves.”
She sat. The chamber was silent for a beat. Then, slowly, applause began—not from his party alone, but from across the aisle.
Outside, the rain had stopped.
CHAPTER
15 ROV ATLANTIS >>>>
Working in unison, the Terramentals and John Storm, shut down Neptune's reactor & systems. They rig a tow, and haul the stricken submarine into port at Lisbon, having alerted the Marine Accident Investigation Board, to the problem, warning not to trust the MOD. The news media is given this information to prevent MI6 from sinking the Neptune, to get rid of their dirty laundry.
reactor
bolt heads, glued in place nuclear
radiation
Dirty
Harry
Scotland Yard
HMS
Neptune Sir
Rodney Dunbar First
Sealord
PROPOSED
STORY MAP BY CHAPTER (90-110 pages) - ORDER CAN BE CHANGED: DRAFT
SCREENPLAY
ACT
1.
CHAPTER
1. PROTESTS - Peaceful
North Sea oil pollution protestors are framed and imprisoned,
by a corrupt judicial system.
CHAPTER
2. PREDATOR - On release the
Terramentals
& smuggler Jorges
Dicaprio, complete a
mini-sub capable of sinking submarines.
CHAPTER
3. PHOENIX - Terramentals
locate & hijack HMS Neptune in Irish
Sea, Cumbria, using the Predator mini-sub -
knocking out the crew.
CHAPTER
4. BRITISH PETROLEUM -
Terramentals warn North Sea rig operators to stop. Claymore
rig is torpedoed, Royal
Navy respond.
CHAPTER
5. BBC WORLD SERVICE - Jill Bird
reports Terramentals rig attacks, world shocked at pollution
cover up. Charley Temple investigates.
CHAPTER
6. UNEP SOS - The
UNEP ask John Storm to survey North Sea for oil pollution.
Elizabeth Swann detects HMS Neptune radiation leaks.
CHAPTER
7. RADIATION ALERT - John
& Dan twig radiation from
HMS Neptune possible serious reactor damage. Must warn Terramentals.
ACT 2.
CHAPTER
8. STEALTH MODE - Storm spots Astute sub, Swann
in stealth
mode, detected as John warns extremists of sub
radiation leakage.
CHAPTER
9. CHANGE OF COURSE -
Terramentals change course, heading for the
Straits of Gibraltar. Not believing radiation warning.
CHAPTER
10. U-BOAT 986 - Evading Swann, HMS Neptune navigates
off transport lanes. Swann picks up magnetic signature of U-Boat
986.
CHAPTER
11. SENATE, UK & EU DEBATE -
Sub
hijacking & rig destruction, alarm bells around world. Deepwater
Horizon shivers down
spines.
CHAPTER
12. REACTOR LEAK - Terramentals realise John
telling truth, as radiation rector damage detection system HMS Neptune triggers.
CHAPTER
13. RESCUE TOW - John rescues
Terramentals. MI6 order Neptune
sinking. MOD knew reactor dangerous, want evidence gone.
CHAPTER
14. LISBON PORT -
Terramentals & Storm, shut Neptune's reactor. Tow, stricken submarine
to Lisbon, prevent MI6 sinking evidence.
ACT
3.
CHAPTER
15. ROV ATLANTIS - Swann returns U-Boat stealth mode at night,
to avoid tracking. Surveys site,
discovers Atlantis & Nazi gold.
CHAPTER
16. TREASURE TROVE - John reveals gold find &
threatened. US Linc Truman support. PM, Ed
Thomas, &
Sealord, royal
support.
CHAPTER
17. BLUE SHIELD - Cleopatra
alerts Blue Shield, Newcastle
University, potential Atlantis find, suggests UNESCO
world heritage site.
CHAPTER
18. GOLDEN OFFER - Claimants
reward John U-Boat gold find. Agrees 1% cover costs 9% to Blue Shield surveys.
UNESCO grateful.
CHAPTER
19. GREEN MOBILITY - Galvanized
to action UK hit green H2 button, John gets grants low
income families, Jill
Bird, news item.
CHAPTER
20. IMO IS GO - The International Maritime
Org green
H2 & methanol,
certification. USA in. China India stay with coal,
gas
& oil.
CHAPTER
21. AMNESTY INTERNATIONAL - John & George
amnesty, pirate
caselaw & video proof set up. Harry & Johnson
charged treason.
Disillusioned
eco activists are imprisoned by the British, for peacefully
protesting in London about unrealistically low fines for oil
spills in the North
Sea, demonstrating strictly in accordance with
their Article 9 and 10 Human Rights. They are targeted by fossil
fuel industry fraudsters, who bribe police officials and
court judges to secure a conviction, with the backing of
corrupt ministers of state who have undeclared personal
investments in
oil
drilling companies: Amoco, BP, Shell, Total. That sets in
motion a train of events, where, having been framed, the ever
more determined environmentalists build a mini-sub, fast
enough and especially equipped, to sink or capture Astute,
Aukus and US Seawolf class submarines. Having captured HMS Neptune, the Terramentals
torpedo a BP owned rig, also destroying two others (Shell),
with the looming threat to target all 150 plus, operating in
the North Sea. The oil producers are temporarily forced to
shut down production, as a result of the significant media
coverage and public outrage on realization of the pollution.
The UN asks John Storm to provide a geodata survey on the
environmental damage.
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