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!”
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.
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.
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.