Gold Sharks (22 page)

“Will this do Mister?” the driver asked, waking them from their hypnotic trance.

“Oh yes thanks.” Oscar came suddenly to his senses, breaking the spell. He paid the driver and then, still holding hands, they strolled in silence through the palm-shaded public thoroughfare towards the bungalows.

They walked into Oscar's bungalow and without stopping Oscar closed the door behind them; Marion turned and placed her hands on his chest.

“I don't know what's happening to me but I feel a bit like a naughty schoolgirl!

Oscar cupped her dainty chin in his hand and gently kissed her mouth.

“I know exactly what you mean; exciting isn't it!” He kissed her again, this time lingering a little longer.

Her lips were warm and moist; she closed her eyes and pressed gently. Oscar slipped his arms around her waist and held her close; her head rested on his chest. They simply stood there for the next minute, their bodies nestling closer together. Eventually Marion looked up.

“Come with me.” She took him by the hand and walked towards the bedroom. “Is this one yours?” She walked into the first open door. Oscar nodded and happily followed, closing the door behind them.

“Greg will be quite a long time - I hope!” he smiled, pulling her close again.

It was over an hour later when they heard Remi knocking on the terrace doors.

“Is anyone there?” he called, sounding anxious.

They dressed hurriedly and a sense of guilt flushed through Oscar.

“I have that naughty adolescent feeling again!” he said quietly.

Marion giggled.

“Me too! I don't why, we have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of!” She squared her shoulders defiantly.

Oscar stepped up to the patio windows and let the distraught Remi in.

“What's the problem?” Oscar asked.

“Well I left Greg still trying to find his gas re-breather, thinking I ought get back to Sophie but she's not here and it's just not like her to go anywhere on her own!” He was obviously very agitated.

“Steady now. She might have just walked across the beach for a cool drink or something?” Oscar strained to look across the wide expanse of sand but could not identify Sophie amongst the dozens of other bikini clad young ladies.

Marion appeared at Oscar's side. “I'll walk down to the cafés with you. I bet she's there.”

Remi looked startled when he saw his mother and opened his mouth but no sound came out. Marion moved up to him, grabbed his elbow and walked him across the terrace to the beach. She looked back, giving Oscar an exaggerated wink and waving. He waved, forcing a smile. The nasty nagging doubt that had penetrated the back of his mind dramatically changed his mood.

“These people will be seriously upset.” Oscar recalled the lawyer's warning as he returned to the lounge.

“Oh My God!” he muttered aloud as the memories of his last adventure came flooding back; especially those of the sickening and tragic deaths of so many of his friends. Head in hands, he sat down heavily in the armchair.

“Hello, where is everyone?” Greg called as he appeared through the door.

“Thank God you're back!” Oscar jumped up and grabbed his friend's arm. “We may have a problem!”

He explained the situation to Greg.

“Let's take a look next door to start with eh?” Greg responded, trying as ever to be rational.

“Shouldn't we wait for Marion?” Oscar called.

But Greg had already gone. Oscar followed him. As they entered the other bungalow the telephone was ringing. Greg grabbed it.

Yes?” he snapped.

“Are you the little lady's young man?” a voice asked icily.

“If you mean Sophie, yes I am. Who are you?” Greg barked angrily into the receiver, pretending to be Remi, as their worst fears were confirmed.

7

The Chinese divers were all excellent students; each diligently taking in every detail as their instructors carefully explained and demonstrated the highly technical equipment.

The cavalier attitude displayed by the diver who had been so tragically killed at the oil platform had been a stark warning to be heeded, without exception, by the eager students. They were all of course highly experienced conventional divers; this new training would elevate them into an elite group. The question was would they be happy to stay in their own country, where the rewards for such skills were limited, or would they then want to seek adventure and reward elsewhere? The conversation in the mess hall was almost always based on the potential fortunes available to men with such rare and sought-after skills. .

The last four days of the training programme were to be taken up with simulated deep diving tests in the thirty-five-metre hole in the middle of the vast natural harbour basin. In the meantime, marine engineers had almost completed the repair to the damaged cargo vessel still chocked up in the dry dock.

Alex waited for the special limpet mines to arrive. His repeated pleadings with Hans in London produced only frustrating promises.

“Trust me! Shipping mines and detonators to communist China is just a bit exceptional even for me!” Hans pleaded for patience.

Finally, on the eve of their last day there, an inconspicuous fishing boat chugged into the busy harbour and worked its way towards the old basin through the teeming traffic. It was dusk as it tied up unnoticed to the wharf on the edge of the entrance where several other similar vessels were moored.

In the early hours of the morning, Alex received a call from a confident sounding Hans.

“They'll be alongside in twenty minutes my friend.”

“Fantastic and thanks. Oh and sorry for all the pestering.” Alex pressed the end button.

He dressed quickly and called John. The fishing boat was already manoeuvring alongside as they reached the deck. An American voice whispered from the shadow of the wheelhouse,

“Alex?”

“It sure is. Who sent you?” he replied.

“Hans sends his regards and said if that mean old Jersey man doesn't give you a drink, don't be surprised!” The speaker stepped into the moonlight; he had a slight limp.

“Hans! I didn't expect a personal delivery service. Though thinking about it, I suppose it's cheaper than Securicor!”

“Are you two going to kiss or something or do we start loading the gear?” John interrupted, sounding irritated.

“John, meet Hans. This is the meanest man on earth, and so we won't kiss - it's not been charged on the invoice!” Alex added with a grin.

Hans offered the surprised John his hand.

“Just ignore that man John. It's good to meet you and you're right, we don't want to hang about.” He signalled to a man standing on the deck of the fishing boat, who stooped and pulled back the hatch cover to reveal several aluminium cases, each the size of a hatbox.

“Six of the best - all with remote radio detonators as well as the standard timers.” Hans waved proudly at the deadly cargo of plutonium depleted limpet mines.

The cases were lifted up to the tug and spirited below to the equipment store.

Hans shook Alex's hand.

“I have to leave now. The Boss doesn't know about this lot yet, so I may have to charge it to your AMEX card!” he smiled, gripping the hand firmly. “Just watch yourself, OK?” he added seriously.

The fishing boat drifted away and vanished into the night.

“The old bastard,” Alex addressed John with respect for his departing friend then returned his attention to the mines. “Now our job is to use them with full effect eh?”

John nodded agreement.

“We'll have to move quickly; they've almost finished the repairs.”

“Yes I think we need a little extra diversion time. I'll talk to Ling - perhaps he can get someone to disable the dry dock for twenty-four hours. That should be enough.” Alex leant against the rail of the tug. The moonlight danced on the water - it was a glorious, almost breathtaking night.

“It would be best if the dock could be flooded - then for the gate to be jammed part open, enough for us to so swim through, but not enough for the ship to leave. That should give us enough time to attach the mines.” Seemingly satisfied with his plan, he turned back to John. “Yes that should do it, agreed?”

John smiled.

“It sounds perfect to me. Do you want me to talk to Ling?”

“Yes please. That cargo boat must not leave the dock until we've set those charges. I also have another little job ashore before we go to work. But right now we get some sleep.” He looked at his watch. It was four o'clock. “Let's say seven-thirty start!”

John looked at Alex in admiration, yet wondered just how an apparently decent guy could be such a calculating ruthless killer at the same time.

f

“I don't know what it is but those lawyers make me feel inferior.” Dick shook his head in disgust. “I just don't trust them, especially when I can't understand half of what they're talking about. Thank God for Oscar - he seemed to be able to handle them. Strange isn't it - I can't relax with that lawyer yet with Oscar I feel as though I've known him all my life.”

Annie listened without interrupting. She knew the feeling well enough.

“Strange you should say that but I felt a definite warmth with Marion, yet she is also a highly educated person.” She paused for a moment. “I think we've been lucky to find them, but now we have to find your wife and baby,” Annie pointed out, returning to the current problem. “I have agreed with Marion that we will find where they are being kept and then she will help us work out a way to rescue them. Are you listening to me?” she chided and nudged the still-despondent Dick.

He looked up at Annie and just for a brief moment saw her in a different light; he wasn't sure but suddenly he sensed something different about her.

“Yes I hear you,” he stammered, then, “Thanks - I'm being selfish aren't I. Come on, let's see what we can find.” He jumped up from his chair, casting aside his gloomy mood.

Together they headed towards the old walled city and the seedy nightclub district.

w

Alex and John had just returned from placing their deadly limpet mines at strategic points under the cargo vessel's hull and were now sitting in the wheelhouse with Big J, Ling and the Old Chinese Ming Ho.

Alex addressed the little group.

“Thank you for being part of this council of war. I thought it best that you all know exactly what we're about.” No one spoke but he clearly had their undivided attention. “You all know that the cargo boat, still conveniently stuck in the dry dock, has a cargo of deadly weapons destined for the Filipino terrorists. For obvious reasons we cannot allow them to get access to these arms. Now, John and I have just finished fixing some very special mines to the ship's hull. Which means that I am in a position to destroy the ship and its cargo at any given time. That could include all the crew!” He looked directly at Big J who still remained silent. “The political repercussions of destroying the ship while it is still here in Hong Kong are not acceptable to the United Nations, which is extremely anxious to maintain its improving relationship with China and its evolving administration. We have therefore to destroy the vessel at sea and in deep international waters. You all need to know that I have been instructed to sink the vessel regardless of the loss of life to the crew!” He looked again at Big J, who was clearly about to protest, but Alex raised his hand. “Please let me finish. I can assure you that as far as I'm concerned that has to be the very last resort.” Big J eased back into his chair, visibly relieved by Alex's comment.

Alex sipped from the glass of water in front of him.

“Ming Ho has been talking to the crew and has worked out who and what they are all are. Because of the lack of sanitation on board while the vessel is in dry dock, the crew had to move to a local boarding house. Ming Ho and his family have been entertaining them in their café. There isn't much they don't know about them after ten days. Is that right?” He looked across at the old Chinese.

Ming Ho smiled,

“All sailors are the same. They like to drink and talk when they're ashore. I can tell you now that the four deckhands are innocent sailors. They know that their captain takes the occasional risky cargo and other than receiving a nice bonus each time he does so, they are not aware of what it's all about. The armed guards, however, are quite different. They are trained mercenaries working for the warlord, who is acting as agent for the sale of the arms and ammunition. They are undoubtedly very tough and dangerous. We had little success in finding out anything about this particular cargo from them. The captain, however, owns the boat. He has a massive marine mortgage with the Syndicate, a crime organisation with which I understand you are all familiar. The captain and chief engineer are partners in the business of running the vessel. I suspect that the so-called first officer has something to do with the Syndicate people because he only became involved recently; in fact it was when this particular special cargo was commissioned. The captain had quite a job persuading the chief to let him come on board. The chief is an old sea dog, worried that his retirement days are fast approaching and needs to accumulate his nest egg quickly and had no desire to share a trip with an obvious ‘land lubber' as he described him.” The old man looked at Alex. “Enough?”

“Thank you old friend, that was perfect.” Alex turned back to the others, “I believe that if we can somehow overcome the guards, we may still be able to destroy the cargo without killing the other relatively innocent people. Though I have to say I consider that the captain and engineer are hardly innocent and in my book they know full well what the cargo is and almost certainly where it is to be ultimately used. At the same time I also know the awesome power of the Syndicate so perhaps I can find the merest drop of understanding for them in that respect.” He sipped the water again.