Jimmy Coates: Sabotage. Joe Craig

       EIGHT YEARS PREVIOUSLY…

      Twelve black dots crept through the night sky. They were only visible because the North Sea was relatively calm that night and the lights of the oil rig reflected off the water. In the wind, the night manager’s tie blustered round his beard. He pulled his suit jacket tighter, but it was too small to cross over the front of his considerable stomach.

      “Are they…?” he gasped. His words were lost beneath the constant pounding of the rig’s machinery.

      “I think they’re helicopters, sir!” shouted a burly man next to him. “Do you know anything about this?”

      The night manager shook his head and just caught his hard hat