Stunned by the proposal, John reacted excitedly. “But your ship and all the gear must be much more valuable than this vessel?”
“Perhaps — and we can sort all that out by creating loans for the imbalance. Look I’ve worked with you for the last six months; I know that we think the same way, so for my part it would silly to miss the opportunity to join forces and to expand the business together. ‘Divide and grow’ my old man used to tell me, now I understand what he meant!”
It was all agreed on a handshake. They would sort out all the legal paperwork when they returned to Darwin. So John set course to Australia with the prize ship dreaming of his new exciting future.
Big J agreed to call into Manila to deliver his human cargo as well as to ensure that Sing the wounded diver and the Syndicate guard received urgently hospital treatment.
“Hospital’s too good for that Syndicate bastard, he should be shot and fed to the sharks,” Alex asserted but made no attempt to challenge Big J’s decision.
About one hour after the two ships started their separate journeys, Big J observed the three motorboats cavorting in their deadly chase.
Several miles away, John was still standing on the bridge gazing at the horizon, still high with the wonder of his sudden and exciting change of fortune, when the satellite telephone buzzed. The captain reflexively picked it up.
“Captain speaking.” He listened for a moment then passed the hand set to John. “It’s Alex for you.”
“Yes Alex.” John turned his back on the captain and walked out on to the starboard wing. He knew the tug was out there somewhere but the heat haze reduced visibility to a few miles. He listened in silence as Alex carefully explained the situation regarding Oscar, Greg and the sunken gold. John’s face remained expressionless though his heartbeat accelerated significantly.
“Just thought it may interest you, always assuming it’s all accurate.”
“What does Big J think?” John swallowed his excitement.
“I think he’s game if you are. You better speak with him.”
Big J came on the phone.
“The thing is John, we have about a week in hand before we start the next job. It would have been R and R time for us all, so why not spend a day or two having a look eh? I’m sure the lads will be all for it!”
“Well I suppose it’s only a couple of days after all,” John agreed casually, trying to sound businesslike and professional.
It had been difficult for him to keep the excitement from his voice; for all divers the temptation of hunting for sunken treasure was almost irresistible. John replaced the satellite telephone in its cradle and turned to the captain.
“Change of plan Captain; turn this ship about and set a course for a position about five miles south-west of Corregidor please; I’ll explain on the way.”
The Boss sat quietly and alone at his desk. Sir Gerald Fisher the minister responsible for national security had just left the secretly located City of London office of SONIC. Sir Gerald had called personally to deliver the terminal news. The department was to be merged “or effectively shut down” as the Boss prompted him. The meeting had been brief and somewhat one-sided.
In fact Sir Gerald hated having to face his old friend and deliver the news. Well aware of the many times SONIC had been called upon to resolved embarrassing situations for the nation, it being the only efficient agency that could secretly resort to the same lawless tactics as its enemies.
He finished his formal termination of contract speech adding, “I’m truly sorry about this Adrian but you must realise that things are changing.”
Sir Gerald was the only person known to use his Christian name. To everyone else he was known as Jordon and then after he became head of SONIC simply the Boss.
“MI5 and MI6 are also being revamped, we’re ‘having to be more economical with available resources’ to quote the official document, so we’ve been looking at areas where there is serious duplication of responsibility. That means I’m afraid that there will be no place for SONIC in future. Any sensitive work will be contracted out or passed over to the CIA.” Sir Gerald raised his bushy eyebrows in a derisory gesture.
“All the mainstream agents that can not be redeployed will receive attractive redundancy packages and their full pensions of course. You my old friend are to receive a knighthood,” he smiled smugly hoping that that would be enough to appease the situation.
“I have to say that it’s not entirely a surprise but it’s still a bit of a shock when hearsay becomes reality,” The Boss paused and sighed. “They’re making a terrible mistake you know. The job we are doing is probably going to be even more necessary in this growing age of independent lawless terror activities.”
“I actually agree with you but we live in a passive ‘politically correct’ era now and I was not able to persuade our political masters otherwise; just where it will end I don’t like to think.” Sir Gerald stood up to leave. “I know it won’t help but just so as you know, at the end of the next session I am to be put out to grass as well.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that Gerald.” They shook hands as he left the office.
“Thanks.” Sir Gerald turned a walked out of the office, then looking back, he smiled and bowed his head reverently. “See you on the golf course perhaps, Sir Adrian?”
The tug sailed into Manila harbour and went straight to the fuel berth; it was almost dark as they tied up to the quay.
Big J had ordered the fuel in advance, timing his arrival to be a little after the normal operating hours. As expected the berth was unattended and his enquiry on the ambiguously named courtesy telephone, failed to produce a reply.
“Perfect. We will stay tied up here until morning, and in the meantime we get our passengers ashore without any questions asked.”
Dick volunteered to organise some transport and discreet medical treatment for Sing and the Syndicate guard, so with the assistance of Greg, gratefully boarded his own boat and headed slowly to the busy local part of the harbour where their presence would be less likely to attract attention.
Once they were ashore, Dick went straight to the house of an old pal. He was out but fortunately his girlfriend recognised Dick, who explained briefly in a low tone that he had some urgent business with Philip. With merely a nod of understanding, she scurried away calling out, “I know where he is; I’m sure he’ll want to help you.”
“Tell him to go to the Rope Walk — the boat’s moored there.”
“OK” she called back and vanished from sight.
Philip appeared at the side of the boat in his colourful Jeepnee within minutes.
“So what’s all the excitement and the secrecy about Dickie?” he asked quietly. He’d responded to Dick’s plea for help without question.
“We have to get a couple of people to hospital.”
“You don’t need me for that Dickie,” the man queried.
“Yes we do! You see they’re on a boat in the harbour and the wrong side of the Customs and Immigration barrier.”
“Ah, then you do need me,” he grinned with obvious glee.
They climbed aboard the Jeepnee and headed to the commercial port.
Gunshot wounds inevitably attract official reports and unwanted attention. It was imperative that they kept the shooting and especially the treasure dive secret for as long as possible.
The ever-resourceful Philip was able to deliver his patients to a friendly clinic, where they were soon enjoying expert treatment without any awkward questions being asked.
Ling and his wife slipped ashore and temporarily moved into a tourist hotel. SONIC would provide all the necessary paperwork for them to travel inconspicuously to Singapore where they intended to start their new lives.