Authors note: - This is a follow on to the previous series, Becca XXX Hard Time. Please read it before reading this or you will not understand the plot or characters
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Becca XXX. Spring Tide. Ch 01.
Dawn raids always made me nervous.
I trusted Natalie with my life, but I knew that once we got started, we were pretty much on our own. We were crouched in the sand dunes ready to make our move down the beach after nearly a week of waiting, planning and second guessing. The early morning mist was still clearing and there wasn't a breath of wind in the air. All we could hear was the squark of seagulls and the crashing of the waves. The salty sea air filled our lungs which brought back happy childhood memories of seaside holidays in this part of the world. Cornwall really was spectacular in the spring.
Sennen Cove had its usual morning chill for this time of year, but we knew that once the sun came up properly, we would be basking in glorious spring warmth. It was just after five-thirty in the morning and the place was almost deserted.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" asked Natalie, looking as sexy as ever with her blonde hair tied back in a pony tail.
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," I replied, giving her a wink. "Once more into the danger zone and all that."
I made light of our situation, but we were both feeling apprehensive about what was about to come. As usual, we just had to push down any fear we were feeling and rely on our training and confidence to get us through it. If you believe that you can do something then you're half way there.
"It's just the same as yesterday," she pointed out. "Stick close to me and we'll soon be through the worst of it."
"It looks bigger than yesterday," I replied. "It must be pushing six-feet by now, just like the forecast predicted."
"A harder paddle out will give us a better reward once we surf it back in. Come on, Becca bitch, Natalie will keep you safe."
She slapped my ass playfully, picked up her surfboard and moved out from the sand dunes and onto the wet, hard sand.
We'd been in Sennen for over a week on our new assignment and this was all part of our cover story. There wasn't much going on in this part of the world other than tourism, fishing or surfing and we needed to blend in. Two young girls touring around in a campervan and enjoying the spring swell was the perfect cover for us. I'd learned to surf in my late teens and would spend many a weekend in Devon or Cornwall with friends enjoying the Atlantic waves. That was until I'd met Lexa of course. My life had been turned upside down since then and this now felt alien to me after being away from it for so long.
Despite all the dangerous situations I'd found myself in over the past few years, surfing a large swell like this one had me worried. The waves had been increasing all week since we'd arrived and today it was really pumping. We'd parked our camper van at the top car park and then walked down through the dunes to get to the main peak. Sennen Cove was a beach break with the waves breaking over a sandbar. Sandbars usually shifted with the tide, but Sennen was pretty consistent. As the rollers came in from the deep ocean, they would peak in the middle of this particular bay forming perfect peeling waves both to the left and to the right. It was known as an A-frame peak and, on its day, Sennen was world class.
"There're not many out," Nat pointed out as I carried my board along behind her. "The tourists must be still in bed and will miss the best of it."
"That's normal down here," I laughed. "Only the hardcore come down for a dawn raid. By the time the crowds arrive, the wind will have picked up and the morning glass will be gone."
It was always ironic to me that the very same wind that created the swell out in the ocean, could also destroy it at the beach if the conditions weren't right. Huge Atlantic storms in the middle of the ocean would throw waves in all directions which would travel thousands of miles until they found a shore to break on. I didn't understand all the terminology, but I knew that the local wind conditions could make a big swell into excellent surf or an unrideable mess.
Today we were lucky. The lack of local wind meant that the waves were undisturbed and would keep their clean, glassy shape as they dissipated their power into the sand below.
"Did I tell you how sexy you look in that wet-suit?" I giggled, saying the same thing I'd said every time I'd seen her wearing it.
"You might have mentioned it," she smirked back. "And I'm naked under it. I'm not even wearing a swimsuit."
"Me neither," I laughed. "It will give the boys in the car park something to wank off to when they see us getting changed."
"You little prick tease. You're always trying to entice them to fuck you," she tittered. "But we don't need any men at the moment, you're all I need."
"If our past missions are anything to go by, we'll be getting more than our fair share of cock pretty soon," I laughed. "I've really enjoyed spending time with you again."
"Me too," she smiled coyly. "Once you get that wetsuit off, you'll be feeling my tongue and fingers inside your tight little pussy."
"Promises, promises."
We made it to the water's edge and stopped to fit our ankle leashes. The sight of Natalie bending over in front of me wearing her skin tight wetsuit made my head skip a beat. Wetsuits are designed to fit like a second skin and when you had a body as sexy as Natalie's it left nothing to the imagination.
The five-millimetre-thick neoprene hugged every inch of her perfect body, going up the crack of her ass making it look like a peach. It flattened her breasts slightly, but they still looked large and shapely. I was wearing the same suit and we must have looked like sisters to anyone watching us, apart from the colour of our hair.
The tide was on its way in and I felt the first chill of the water washing over my bare feet which made me shudder. I could have worn boots, but I liked the feel of my feet directly on the board.
Sennen Cove's tidal range was huge at almost six meters, but we were currently on neap tides. The size of the tide changed throughout the month depending on the position of the sun and the moon in relation to the earth. When the sun, moon and earth were aligned, very high high-tides and very low low-tides were formed. These were known as spring tides. However, when the sun and moon were at right angles to each other the opposite was true - known as neap tides. During a lunar month two sets of spring tides and neap tides were produced. Spring tides always gave more powerful waves especially on a rising tide due to the gravitational pull of the moon.
"There's a small rip current to the left," Nat said, nodding out to sea. "It'll make the paddle out easier. Follow me out."
"I'll follow that ass of yours into hell and back," I laughed. "Lead the way, you dirty slut."
We waded out through the white water feeling the under current dragging us out. The rip current was basically water flowing back out to sea after the waves had broken. They can be dangerous to the untrained or unwary, dragging people out to their deaths, but if you knew how to use them, they made surfing a hell of a lot easier.
As the water got up to our chests, we both jumped onto our boards and started paddling through the white water. The push of the waves was strong and the turbulence tried to flip us off our boards, but strong deep strokes kept us moving forwards.
Our hair was soon soaked and there's nothing quite like that first slap of freezing cold water in your face to wake you up. Mother Nature was very much in charge here and we were mere passengers being granted the thrill of riding her waves.
As we battled our way out through the relentless waves, my mind flashed back to the real reason we were down here.
Following the demise of Charles Hamilton, the leader of the terrorist group known as The Generals, things had moved quickly. Before he'd died at the hands of his daughter, Sasha, Charles had told me that the Russians were planning some sort of attack on the UK. Even if he'd known what it was, he'd died before he had a chance to tell me. The last words he uttered were the alleged location of the attack - Sennen Cove.
Lexa's team had jumped on the information and had compared notes with other intelligence agencies to try and get some meat on the bones of the alleged attack, but we were still waiting for the intelligence to be passed down the line to us. The whole idea of a Russian attack on the UK seemed far-fetched and the idea of it happening in a sleepy holiday village like Sennen Cove was simply preposterous.
Never the less, Lexa and Ethan had told us to deploy immediately to get eyes on the ground, just in case it was true. Charles had no reason to lie in his dying seconds and he'd already tried to convince me that he had the country's best interest at heart even if his methods had been extreme.
My time in Bronzefield prison had been hard in order to get to Charles through his daughter, but I'd also made some new friends along the way. Naomi and Arrow were now my own personal intel team and an extra source of information. Arrow's autism made her see things differently to other data analysts and hackers, but even she hadn't come back with anything yet.
My arms were beginning to tire from the arduous paddle and each time a wave broke it washed us a little way back towards the shore. It always feels like you're never going to make it out through the break zone and it can be very demoralizing.
"Keep paddling, Becca bitch. We're almost through it," Natalie yelled over the roar of the water. "I can see a lull in the sets."
She was right. As I looked over the cresting waves, I could see that the swell had flattened off a little. The waves usually hit the beach in sets with the largest wave breaking last. Once that happened, we needed to paddle like mad to get to the back of the waves before the next set arrived.
Lying on a fiberglass board level with the surface of the water and looking up at a six-foot wave about to break on your head was a terrifying view. It looked like a huge blue wall curling over at the top ready to pummel you into the sand below. Knowing that the wave behind it was even bigger made it even more perplexing. To get through it, it was all about technique and timing. As the wave approached, we gave a few long powerful strokes to keep us moving forwards. As we got to the bottom of the wave, we pushed the front of our boards down and duck-dived under the wave, kicking out with the back foot to bring us back to the surface after the wave had passed over us.
I'd been practicing the technique all week and had finally mastered it the day before, but it never made it any less worrying. Everything went silent as we submerged into the serenity below. The world seemed to slow down and I could feel the push of the wave as it passed over me, trying to pick me up and drag me back to the beach. I held position and then slowly rose to the surface to a blur of salty eyes and deafening noise as the wave crashed down behind me.
Woosh - swish - crash.
