Gold Sharks (25 page)

Annie was clearly alarmed by the situation but remained calm.

“Dick, you and I have to do this. It's not these people's responsibility. Do you agree?”

The reluctant Dick sighed but recognised that he finally had to square up to the responsibility of facing his brother-in-law and extracting his wife from his deadly control.

“You're right. I'm sure it'll be safe here on the boat, for the time being any way, so you two stay here. We'll go and collect Lucy and the baby.” Dick smiled encouragement. “I'm sure those men of yours will find Sophie.” He placed a reassuring hand on Remi's shoulder. “Right now you must look after your mum; make her a cup of tea or something - it's all there.” He waved at the galley, turned and left with Annie.

They took the battered pickup and roared into town, dodging the other equally excitably driven commuter vehicles.

They pulled into the alley at the rear the building, near what appeared to be the kitchens. Dick turned the pickup and parked facing the way out.

“Ready for a quick getaway,” he said to no one in particular as he locked the door. “Over this way,” Dick instructed Annie and headed towards the open fire exit doors. As he was about to enter, two men and a woman tumbled into the alley from the fire exit. Startled, Dick stepped back to let them pass.

“Oh Greg,” Annie recognised them at once. “What's happened to you?” she screamed.

Greg, still without his shirt and smeared with blood and temporarily blinded by the bright exterior light, threw his hands in front of his face shielding his eyes, while trying to figure out who could possibly know him.

Oscar, though also stunned by the brightness, recognised Dick at once. “You're just the man - can you get us out of here?” he pleaded, pulling Sophie from the shadows.

“We're here to collect Lucy and the baby as you said. What are you doing here?” Annie interjected in surprise.

“I'm sorry Annie but your brother kidnapped Sophie and tried to beat the location of the submarine out of Greg.” He raised his hands. “Look we just can't stand here all day. You say that Lucy and her baby are here as well?”

Annie nodded.

“Then we better find them before your brother does. I'm afraid that we've upset his plans quite a bit today already,” Greg laughed cynically.

“Annie you stay here with Greg and Sophie. Dick and I will collect the others,” Oscar commanded, turning back into the building. “You lead the way Dickie my friend. I'll ride shotgun,” he called, pulling the handgun from his belt.

They took the stairs two at a time until they were back on the third floor. Dick seemed unaffected by the climb but Oscar was wheezing with the effort.

One by one, Dick opened the doors along the corridor calling, “Lucy are you there?”

Several rooms produced voluble curses from male or female voices. “Ah fuck off,” Dick responded angrily to one particularly imaginative expression.

As he opened the door of the last room on the top corridor, a shot was fired, narrowly missing the burly fisherman.

“I wondered when you'd get here you oaf,” the voice of his brother in law sneered. “So you think you can betray us eh? Well let's see if this will help to change your mind.”

Dick edged cautiously into the dimly lit room. Oscar remained out of sight.

Dick saw at once that the nearly naked woman lay on the bed was Alice; she appeared to be feebly choking on something. The man stood holding the child by its feet, just as if it were a chicken. It was silent.

“You bastard!” Dick roared, taking a step forward but stopped dead in his tracks when the man held the child a little higher, a clear gesture that he would drop it if Dick got any closer.

“That's close enough traitor,” the man slurred; he was obviously high on something.

Dick raised his hand.

“Hold on Len - I'm here to talk,” he said firmly. “Now put the kid down and you'll see that everything is going to be OK!” he reasoned.

The man hesitated, then a sick smile spread across his previously pained face. “So just what do you want to talk about Dickie boy?”

He lowered the child to the bed; strangely it still made no sound.

Dick moved over to the bed and carefully moved the child into a more comfortable position next to Lucy. The child looked up trustingly at Dick and gurgled; amazingly it appeared to be completely unperturbed by the experience.

Dick turned his attention to Lucy, who had stopped choking and lay staring at the ceiling. He reached out to touch her cheek. The sound of the gun firing invaded his mind and reverberated throughout his body, temporarily freezing him to the spot. It was a second or two later before he was able to turn to see Oscar, gun in hand, an empty expression on his face as he stared at the floor just beyond the bed.

Dick followed his gaze; the man Len was slumped on the floor, blood already spreading from the severed artery in his neck. He could not speak larynx had been torn away by the soft nosed slug. The stiletto knife he had been about to thrust into Dick's unprotected back was still held loosely in his hand.

“He was about to stab you,” Oscar said softly.

Dick turned back to Lucy. “I think Lucy is dead.” His hand trembled as he tried to cover her naked breast by straightening her blouse. He shook his head in disbelief. “They've killed her,” he whispered, his head bowed.

Oscar moved towards the bed and felt Lucy's neck but there was no sign of any pulse.

“What's going on down there?” a strange voice shouted.

“Come on Dick, there's nothing we can do for her - we have to get out of here. Is the baby OK?”

Dick carefully picked up the silent child and caressed it lovingly.

“He seems to be unharmed,” he confirmed, quietly sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Look I'm sorry about Lucy but we'll be in big trouble if we don't move now!” Oscar urged.

Dick looked up.

“OK I'm coming.” He looked down once more at the dead body of his wife, stood up and, holding tightly onto the baby, followed Oscar from the building.

Annie met them in the alley.

“Here give him to me.” She gently took the child from Dick.

Dick gripped the steering wheel and looked straight ahead as he drove them slowly away from the alley, trying not to attract attention to their departure.

“They drugged Lucy with something,” he whispered to Annie. “She's dead,” He grated and added as an afterthought, “and so is your brother Len!”

f

Big J sat in the captain's chair studying the latest position report. By constantly monitoring the tiny satellite signal on their chart-plotter they had easily kept a constant twenty miles astern of the cargo vessel.

“Well Alex, now you have all the deep water you could possibly need to lose the cargo for ever, what's the hold up?”

“That's simple,” Alex looked serious. “We still have to wait for our men to eliminate the guards so we can board her and dump it, without dumping the crew as well.” He frowned. “In fact I've left the right time to their own discretion but preferably when they are still in the deep water just short of Corregidor. That way should anything go wrong, we can still blow up the ship, giving all the crew a good chance of getting ashore.” He looked serious.

“Especially our own people!”

“In that case it'll be around dawn tomorrow; then we'll be within fifty miles of the continental shelf just west of Corregidor,” Big J advised him. “How will they communicate?”

“They have a satellite transmitter, which will relay to my cell phone.” He pulled the innocent-looking instrument from his pocket. “Modern technology eh. This little gizmo can send and receive anywhere on the face of the planet.” He looked at in wonder. “ Amazing isn't it.”

He was about to put it back into his pocket when suddenly the tiny instrument vibrated. INCOMING COMMUNICATION flashed continuously on the miniature screen; Alex pressed the green button. “Go ahead Chang,” he said.

“There are two unexpected guests onboard. We understand from the crew that they are the executives of the Syndicate you advised us about, probably the top men behind the arms deal. We can easily remove them once we have despatched the guards. Otherwise we are ready to make the move tomorrow as planned; please re-confirm your instructions,” Chang requested.

“I understand that you will be close to Corregidor at dawn tomorrow but still in deep water where we can dump the cargo safely, so I'd like the takeover to be completed by then OK? As far as the Syndicate men are concerned that's a positive ‘Go' to removing them; is that clear?”

“Affirmative and out,” came the clear reply.

Alex balanced the mobile in his hand.

“You see what I mean about these Syndicate people, they trust no one.” Alex slipped the mobile back into his pocket. “You've got two very good men over there Big J.” Alex pointed towards the horizon ahead of the tug.

“Yes and they're going to earn their pay tomorrow!” Big J clenched his fist as he looked out at the vast expanse of sea, trying to picture the scene aboard the cargo vessel.

“Don't look so worried, so will we, if they get it right!” Alex thumped the big man on the shoulder.

w

The leader of the Syndicate was pouring a cup of tea from the china teapot. “Milk or black today?” he asked the man seated in the comfortable armchair.

“Straight tea today thanks,” the man replied as he read the brief e-mail he'd been handed.

Further to my telephone call it seems as though the rumour about the submarine and a cargo of gold bullion could be correct. I have a client who is preparing a dive team to search for it. These clients are the same ones involved in the big haul last year. They claim to have some coordinates of the sub's possible location.

I'll keep you posted.

Solomon.

“Interesting. Thanks.” He accepted the tea, waving the e-mail with his other hand.

“Yes it is very interesting and if I'm right, those intrepid treasure hunters are the same ones who placed the best part of twenty tonnes of gold bullion in our lap the last time we met.” He looked at his companion. “So I think we should play along with them again. Let them do all the hard work of finding the stuff, getting it to the surface and ashore and then at that point we take over. How does that appeal to you?” The leader was unusually pleased with himself and allowed a thin smile to crease his face.

“Sounds like a classic deal for us but don't forget that agent from SONIC got involved last time and cost us several of our best men.”

“I remember only too well but this time there should be no SONIC interference; it will be very different.” The smile left his face. He sounded confident but a worrying shiver passed through him.

Suddenly he was not so sure.

“I know we have spoken in the past about the possibility of our retiring,” he started, happily changing the subject, “and we have mutually deferred any decision. However, with this arms deal completed and perhaps a few tons of extra gold available, I am inclined to think that this might just be the appropriate moment to walk away. What do you think?”

“As you know I've always resisted the idea in the past but now I think you could be right. Perhaps it is time to drift back into society and enjoy the fruits of our labour!” He placed the empty cup on the table in front of him.

“Yes,” the leader agreed. “We started with five partners now but because of that interfering SONIC agent Alex Scott, we are only three. None the less we each have billions of dollars so why should we expose ourselves to more unnecessary risk?”

“Let's put it to Orwell when he returns from the Philippines.”

They agreed and turned to other business.

f

Life aboard the cargo vessel was boring for the crew. At one time, ships used to be steered by a wheel on the bridge and had to be to be continuously manned. Now there is no wheel, just an inconspicuous little lever to override the computer controlled autopilot occasionally. So for the crew it was just a question of routine watch keeping. There was little to see, the occasional blip of another distant invisible ship on the radar but otherwise just endless ocean. The alternative was chipping paint and hosing salt water from the deck and other fittings where the seawater spray evaporated in the fierce tropical heat to leave a film of crystallised salt.

The air-conditioned sleeping accommodation, however, was very comfortable, so they spent as much time as possible reading, listening to or watching, a fairly comprehensive collection of music and movies.

The three armed guards had their own quarters and by taking watches of four on four off, were able to enjoy the same relaxed off-duty life as the deckhands.

Cruising at fifteen knots, the vessel rolled gently on the flat calm sea.

There were two Syndicate men on board. One the sole surviving member of the Hong Kong cell the other, who had arrived just minutes before the ship finally sailed, was the young Syndicate Director, sent by the leader to oversee the operation. Both were landsmen with little seagoing experience and spent the first forty-eight hours in their bunks suffering from seasickness.

Although the two Chinese divers were distant cousins, they only met for the first time while doing their basic training in the communist Chinese army. Both qualified with top credits, having demonstrated exceptional aptitude, especially in weapon skills. Then they were transferred to a Special Forces unit where they underwent further training before being sent to their equivalent of the Marine Corps. There they trained in general diving skills, eventually specialising in underwater demolition. Having served their mandatory three years, they were transferred to the civil diving unit in Hong Kong.

They had trained to kill but had never actually seen any action.

With the agreed time for the attack just minutes away, their mood was tense. They had agreed to make their move at five the following morning, when, they reasoned, the guards were most likely to be vulnerable as the ones off duty would all be asleep and the one on duty would be off his guard, possibly even dozing through the tedious early morning hours.