The Spear of Destiny

by Julian Noyce

  “What is that?” Hutchinson asked.

  “Either the ship is in danger or we’ve been discovered,” Dennis nodded towards the bridge, “and I think it may be us.”

  The unmistakeable figure of Von Werner in his white suit appeared at the railing surrounding the bridge. Petrov in black military fatigues was with him and Dennis saw the Dragonuv sniper rifle cradled in the man’s arms.

  “Fuck!” Dennis said, “Come with me.”

  He picked up the dropped adjustable wrench and he and Hucthinson moved away from the lifeboat and slipped in amongst the containers.

  Von Werner had a megaphone in his hand and he raised it to his lips. Dennis and Hutchinson stopped as the voice carried across the deck.

  “Mr Dennis! I assume it’s you Mr Dennis. You can give yourselves up.”

  Dennis wasn’t listening. He was trying to break the seal on a container.

  “Very well you had your chance,” the voice came to him through the containers.

  “Uh Pete! You better take a look at this.”

  Dennis let go of the handle on the container’s door and moved to see what Hutchinson was pointing at.

  “Allow me to introduce Gennady Borodinoff.”

  Dennis watched with wide eyes as a heavily armoured man moved slowly down the stairs towards them armed with a sidearm, grenades and a SPAS-12 assault shotgun. The man was covered from head to toe in armour. On his head night vision goggles and a Kevlar helmet.

  “Pete what the fuck are we going to do?”

  The only weapon they had was the spanner. Dennis got into a position where he could see Petrov clearly. The sniper seemed to be able to keep his balance despite the pitching of the ship. A single shot ricocheted off the container inches from Dennis’ face. Dennis flinched away into cover. He looked up at the single container he was next to reading the labels on the side.

  “Jim! Quick! Give me a hand to get this open.”

  “Pete he’s getting really close.”

  Dennis peered through the gap again just in time to see Borodinoff pump the shotgun one handed to cock it. Dennis smashed down on the seal locking the container. It pinged away and he pulled the double handles to open one door.

  “Give yourself up Dennis!” Borodinoff shouted.

  Dennis helped Hutchinson open the other door. Borodinoff could now see them and he fired his shotgun just over their heads.

  “Jesus!” Dennis shouted.

  They swung the other door open just as Petrov got to them. The ship suddenly lurched again as they dived for cover. Two cages containing dozens of gas cylinders tumbled out. They burst across the deck taking Borodinoff off his feet. Dennis and Hutchinson each holding onto a container door until the ship righted, then leaned the other way. The door Dennis was holding onto banged shut and he bounced off it and went down amongst the gas canisters. They bounced and plinked around him. Hutchinson still hanging on felt the container move further than it had before and he dropped down and rolled away from it and came to his knees.

  Dennis was back on his feet swaying with the motion of the ship. Borodinoff, weighed down by his heavy armour was much slower in getting up. Dennis picked up a barbecue sized gas canister and drew his arm back and threw it at Borodinoff. It hit the Russian in the head and the man was forced back down to one knee.

  The ship lurched again.

  “Pete that container’s loose!”

  Dennis rolled himself out of the way just in the nick of time as the container rumbled past him, gaining speed. Borodinoff was slowly getting back to his feet on the slippery deck. He more felt than heard or saw the container coming, spilling its contents out as it came. He couldn’t move from its path and it slammed into him taking him with it crushing him against the rails, killing him. Up by the bridge Von Werner watched in silence, his knuckles white on the rail.

  Dennis went slowly to the container stepping over gas cylinders. The next time the ship lurched the container moved away from Borodinoff and his body slumped to the deck. Dennis picked up the assault shotgun and checked it for ammunition. There were six shells left.

  “Uh Pete!” Hutchinson said pointing.

  Dennis saw four more men running down the stairs towards them. Three of them had handguns, one was carrying a machete. The gas cylinders were still rolling around on the deck and bouncing off objects. The container was still sliding about blocking their exit. Dennis backed to the rail and peered down at the black sea, the crests of the waves churned white by the storm. The sea was a long way below.

  “Jim get ready to jump over the side.”

  “Over the side! Are you mad?”

  “There’s no other choice.”

  Dennis heard the four men taunting them as they came closer.

  “When I say go Jim go. Ok!”

  “Yeah sure. Whatever you say Pete.”

  Hutchinson was looking down at what he could only perceive as certain death.

  “Go!” Dennis shouted, “Jim Go!”

  As another shot from Petrov missed Dennis by a fraction he pointed the shotgun around the corner of the container and fired. The first man was hit at almost point blank range and the powerful blast from the shotgun threw him backwards, his chest blasted to a pulp. Dennis cocked and fired again and again. Hutchinson ran to the rail. Up on the gantry Petrov sighted Hutchinson and brought the crosshairs to focus on the American’s head. He put his finger on the trigger and pulled it back. The container suddenly filled the scope as it once again slid across the deck in front of Hutchinson. Jim heard it coming. This time it was heading straight for him and would crush him as it had Borodinoff. Hutchinson turned, climbed the waist high railing and jumped. He landed with a heavy smack in the churning sea. His head broke the surface and he turned around to face the ship. Ten feet of the container had gone through the safety rail and was now balancing over thin air. Then twelve, then fifteen, now twenty. At twenty five feet it began to tilt. Hutchinson began frantically kicking away from the ship but the next waves brought him closer. The container suddenly tipped and crashed into the sea not far from him. It disappeared for a moment under the waves, then came back up, the front rising out of the water, then it righted and appeared to be staying afloat.

  Dennis, now the container was gone, was fully exposed to Petrov and his sniper rifle. He turned and fired the SPAS-12 twice at the gantry. Von Werner ducked as pellets whined and smacked off the rails. Petrov hadn’t moved and he calmly pulled the trigger just as Dennis turned and ran. The bullet from the Dragunov whined harmlessly into the wet deck and ricocheted away. With one cartridge left Dennis pointed the shotgun over his shoulder at the centre of the gas canisters and pulled the trigger a moment before he dived over the side. The resulting explosion shook the ship as gas canister after gas canister erupted causing a chain reaction which threw Von Werner and Petrov to the floor.

  Dennis’ head broke the surface of the water in time for him to see the massive fireball the explosion had caused.

  “Pete! Over here.”

  A large wave pushed Dennis towards the container and together he and Hucthinson clung to it. An ominous creaking and groaning sound came from the ship and they watched in amazement as four stacks of containers six high leaned out over the side and then toppled into the sea one at a time.

  “Fuck!” Dennis said, “Did I cause that?”

  “Uh-huh,” Hutchinson replied as the ship moved further away.

  On the gantry by the bridge Von Werner and Petrov slowly picked themselves up. Von Werner found his small round spectacles and put them on. He brushed his white suit down with his hand, a strange smile on his lips.

  “Do you want me to go after them sir?” Petrov asked, the Dragunov rifle resting across his chest.

  Von Werner shook his head.

  “They won’t last long in that sea.”

  Inside he was thinking, ’I hope you do survive Mr Dennis. I hope to see you again real soon’

  He turned and went back to the bridge.

  Dennis an
d Hutchinson were still watching the ship. Within minutes it was a quarter of a mile away. Dennis pulled himself up out of the cold water and onto the top of the container. He instantly turned, held out his hands and helped pull Hutchinson out of the sea also. Together they collapsed onto the hard steel surface.

  “What a night!” Dennis said.

  “Do you think this thing will stay afloat?”

  “I hope so.”

  “What do you think is in it?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t we open it?”

  “Ha funny!”

  The rain was still lashing at them. Hutchinson turned on his side.

  “Pete there are lights on the horizon.”

  Dennis rolled over to look. With the rising and falling of the container in the churning sea Dennis could make out the lights. One particularly large wave lifted them high enough to see more lights.

  “I think it’s Naples Jim.”

  “How far out do you think we are?”

  “Don’t know. Five miles. Ten. But I think we’re slowly being swept in.”

  “Oh good,” Hutchinson said, “I’ve always wanted to see Pompeii.”

  Dennis looked at him for a moment then threw back his head and roared with laughter.

  “I sure could use a cold beer,” Hutchinson added.

  “Yeah me too,” Dennis agreed as the waves brought them closer to land.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Dennis and Hutchinson woke to a chilly dawn. They had spent a cold, uncomfortable night drifting on the container in the Tyrrhenian sea towards the city of Naples. Dennis guessed that they were a couple of miles out and he thanked their luck that they’d not drifted out to sea. A passing ship had spotted them and alerted the Italian navy who had sent a patrol boat out to pick them up.

  After being given dry clothes, food and drink, they were detained under house arrest until De Luca had driven to Naples with Natalie to pick them up.

  Hutchinson had slept in the car during the drive back to Rome and Dennis had told of their story.

  When Sonnenburg saw them walk into his office his face split into a large grin.

  “Welcome back to the Vatican,” he said, “And may I say how pleased I am to see you both still in one piece,” he said to Dennis and Hutchinson, “Though I see you are both sporting some nasty bruises. Have you seen a doctor?”

  They both nodded.

  Sonnenburg gestured towards the large screen on the wall.

  “You’ll be interested to know that we have received correspondence from the British military intelligence service. You will probably better know it as MI6.…”

  Dennis nodded.

  “We are no longer working with Interpol but with respective military authorities on this matter. This means that progress may become a little slower regarding the warrant for Von Werner and his group. His acts have now been classified as terrorism and therefore will merit military intervention. I can tell you that his container ship, the one you were on, the ‘Ocean breeze’ was boarded by Interpol agents accompanied by Italian navy seals. Von Werner had already left the ship. It was found to only contain crew members and none of his mercenaries. Six crew members were arrested, two released and four detained. The ship itself was allowed to continue on schedule because of the itinery of its cargo. It will be docking in Agadir in Morocco in one week.”

  Sonnenburg brought up images on the screen.

  “Thanks to British intelligence we now have known acquaintances on five more of Von Werner’s associates. For instance, this man.”

  “Anatoly Petrov,” Hutchinson read the name on Sonnenburg’s screen.

  “Yes. Former Russian agent, ex-military. First gulf war. Served in Afghanistan, Kosovo, virtually anywhere the Russians have been involved in in the last twenty five years, Petrov has been a part of it. Rose to the rank of colonel. In charge of a task force in Iraq he began working for the other side, supplying weapons to various terrorist factions. Has disappeared until now.”

  “Sounds like a real nasty piece of work,” Hutchinson said.

  Dennis leaned in closer to the screen.

  “Mr Dennis, do you have something you wish to add?” Sonnenburg asked.

  Dennis studied the face casting his mind back to the sniper on the Ocean breeze.

  “I think he was on the ship.”

  “You are sure?”

  “It was raining hard. It was dark and the ship was rolling and pitching but I did get a good glimpse of him for a split second. I think it was him.”

  Sonnenburg clicked on the next picture. This name Dennis did know.

  “Gennady Borodinoff,” Sonnenburg began, “Served under Petrov in Iraq. Wanted for war crimes against humanity….”

  Dennis raised his hand.

  “Yes.”

  “He was crushed by a container on the ship.”

  “Crushed?”

  “Yes. There was a container that come adrift. It killed him.”

  Sonnenburg began typing on his laptop.

  “We’ll need confirmation of course.”

  The next picture showed Sergei Danilov. A red banner across the image read ‘deceased’. Natalie looked into the eyes and shuddered. The next image was of a man with oriental features with very scarred cheeks. Possibly caused by acne as a child.

  “This we believe is Kim Li Choi. He’s North Korean, a former North Korean army lieutenant. His father is a colonel in the North Korean army. Kim was court-martialled from the army in disgrace. His father disowned him and he was believed to have moved to Russia, became involved in drug dealing and is wanted in connection with the murders of two policemen in St Petersburg, Russia. Has a taste for fast cars, could possibly be one of our Hummer drivers.”

  “He was on the ship,” Dennis said, “He handed a briefcase to her,” Dennis added as the image of the redhead appeared next.

  “We’re not sure about her. Her name and details are unknown.”

  “She was on the ship. She left in the Dolphin helicopter with the Korean,” Dennis said moving closer to the screen. He looked at the picture of the beautiful redhead getting into a black car. She was wearing dark sunglasses but Dennis was sure it was her.

  “You are sure?” Sonnenburg asked the journalist.

  “Definitely. She took the briefcase and left just before they took me hostage.”

  “Have you any idea of what was in the briefcase?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Where did all this intelligence originate. I mean why weren’t we shown these before?” Hutchinson asked.

  “I already told you we got this information from MI6. The man you captured in London Mr Dennis has decided to talk,” Sonnenburg brought the man’s image up on the screen. “His name is Ireneusz Stancyk. He is a Polish national. Not much is known about his background as yet. It seems the British offered him 15 years off a prison sentence if he was willing to talk, and he did.”

  “Ah well, I’m pleased to see that my evening of getting my arse grilled by the metropolitan police paid off.”

  “Where does Von Werner get his people from?” Hutchinson asked quietly.

  “Physco’s-r-us,” Dennis offered to a stern look from Sonnenburg.

  “Sorry,” he said, he grimaced at Natalie who was trying to keep a straight face.

  Sonnenburg chose to ignore them and turned back to his large screen on the wall. The team stayed with him for a further hour helping him with his enquiries. Then Sonnenburg put a large white envelope on his desk.

  “You are booked onto a flight to London tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. My officers will pick you up at your hotel at 7am,” he extended his hand for them to shake, “I would like once again to thank you for everything that you have done to help us in this case. I am sorry that it concluded without a conviction but we did everything we could.”

  Dennis shook the offered hand.

  “So is that everything then?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not in trouble for anything I’ve don
e.”

  “No.”

  “I stole a motorcycle.”

  “It’s been dealt with.”

  “Caused an explosion on a ship.”

  “Of the twenty five containers that fell from the Ocean breeze two were recovered. The one you were on and another. The rest sank. The company or companies who own them will be insured. This is Italy Mr Dennis, not Britain. Here the criminals are in the wrong.”

  Sonnenburg shook Hutchinson’s and Natalie’s hands.

  “On behalf of my government thank you for your assistance. Have a safe journey home.”

  The three of them sat in the departure lounge at the Leonardo Da Vinci airport waiting for their flight to Gatwick

  “I’m kinda sorry we’re going home,” Hutchinson said, blowing on his hot coffee.

  “Yeah me too,” Dennis replied, “After all we’ve done in trying to help them apprehend Von Werner all we get is our marching orders.”

  “Well I for one will be glad to get home,” Natalie said, “My life was quiet until I met you. I was a simple marine archaeologist working in Greece….”

  Dennis stared at her open mouthed.

  “Then I get dragged all around Europe. Nearly killed god knows how many times. Almost raped, been shot at. Thought I’d lost you God knows how many times….”

  “Are you serious?” Dennis asked.

  “….Nearly been blown up,” she continued.

  Hutchinson chuckled.

  “It’s been fun though Nat hey?”

  She smiled.

  “Absolutely. I didn’t realise just how boring my life was until I met you.”

  Dennis puffed up his cheeks and blew out his breath.

  “Thank God for that. I wasn’t sure where you were going with this.”

  “Has your life always been like this Pete,” Hutchinson asked, “Always getting into the thick of it.”

  “Actually it has.”

  “I’ll be honest though,” Hutchinson continued, “It’s a shame to let them get away with what they’ve done and not bring the spear back with us.”

  “I’m sure the authorities will bring them to justice Jim,” Natalie added.