by James Dudley
“Well, you see, Tung Lung Chau is officially an uninhabited island. So what’s happening here is that a Royal Navy ship is conducting a regularly scheduled gunnery exercise on an uninhabited island. I believe your lot does the same thing at San Clemente,” Sir Alastair explained.
“Yes we do,” Maldini said, referring to an uninhabited island off the coast of Southern California. He heard the boom of the destroyer’s guns and looked to see a high-explosive shell fly over his head and impact on the shore, drawing cheers from the pinned-down Triad men. Having spent the war years underwater, he was gaining a whole new respect for the sailors and marines who had carried out amphibious assaults on Japanese-held islands throughout the Pacific theater.
After several more rounds from the destroyer’s guns, the machine gun and mortar emplacements went quiet. Maldini glanced down at his watch, “Alright, it’s time to hit that house.”
*****
Richard took the lead as Tommy, Han, and Millie followed close behind him on their way out of the detention level. Each report of the destroyer’s guns reverberated throughout the whole compound, and the impact of each shell caused the walls to shake and lights to flicker on and off.
“Well done, Tommy, that was some contingency plan,” Millie said. “How many people knew about it? Was Walter Wong in on it?”
“No, Tommy didn’t even tell me about it,” said Han.
“I’m learning to play the Hong Kong game,” Tommy explained. “Play everything close to the vest, plan for every contingency, and always have something bigger up your sleeve.”
“I dare say, if you weren’t otherwise employed, you would fit in rather well at Hong Kong Station,” Millie said.
“That’s all well and good, but we’re not out of the woods yet,” Richard reminded them.
They reached the end of the hallway and cautiously walked up the stairwell leading to the main floors. When they were halfway up the stairs, two of Sheng’s men appeared on the upper landing and charged wildly in their direction, but were quickly dispatched by some of Richard’s expert pistol work.
Their pace quickened as they ran up the rest of the stairs and pushed through the doorway leading out onto the ground floor. They found themselves back in the main corridor, lined with its replica terra cotta soldiers. A small group of Sheng’s men on the other end of the corridor opened fire, sending them lunging for cover. Tommy took the safety off of his Russian-made Makarov pistol, crouching behind a statue for cover and waiting for the right moment to return fire. It had been twelve years since the last time he was in a gunfight during the war, but he figured it was one of those things like riding a bicycle.
“How much time did your sailor friend give us?” Richard shouted across the hallway after firing a flurry of shots and then diving to the other side.
“Ten minutes,” Tommy shouted back. “But maybe I should ask for more.”
“On second thought, don’t bother,” Richard responded. “That might be just what we need.”
Tommy stepped out and fired a few shots, then ducked back behind his cover, pretty sure that he hadn’t actually hit anybody. Sporadic gunfire continued to come from the other side, bringing back not-so-happy memories of similar fights in the hedgerows of Normandy. Tommy glanced at his watch, did some math in his head, and just like clockwork, the first shell from the destroyer came screeching overhead and slammed into one of the upper levels of the compound.
“Classic Hollywood, always going for the big, dramatic explosions,” Han exclaimed.
“Reminds me of London during the Blitz,” Millie said as dust from the ceiling fell around them.
Three rounds later, an explosion ripped through the main corridor, leaving the far end of it reduced to rubble. Having braced for the impact, Tommy looked up, his ears still ringing, to see the silent wreckage where his adversaries had just been shooting from.
“Wow, those gunners are good,” he said.
“Of course they’re good, they’re British,” said Richard.
Richard walked over towards the entrance to the conference room, fired a pistol round through the lock, and pushed the door open, motioning for the others to follow him. Walter Wong and his entourage were waiting inside, looking dazed and confused about everything that was happening around them.
“Is this your doing, Mr. Malloy? How did you pull this off” Walter asked.
“I’ll explain it all later,” Tommy said. “But right now, we have to run.”
Walter was thoroughly impressed. “Tommy Malloy, it appears you truly do have the Joss of the Irish.”
They carefully navigated their way through the badly damaged compound that was continuously rocked by explosions. Many of Sheng’s men, Chinese and Russian alike, were running past them but them no heed in their haste to secure their own escapes. Once clear of the compound, they ducked behind whatever rocks they could find outside, deciding to wait out the rest of the battle as safely as possible.
*****
Maldini surveyed the damage as the gunfire from the destroyer behind him finally stopped. The buildings of the compound had been torn apart, and the men inside were spilling out in confusion. Some were attempting to mount resistance, but most were either aimlessly running, or negotiating surrender terms with the re-energized Triad men who had emerged from the rocks. All-in-all it was a pretty strong argument for the effectiveness of naval gunfire support.
Maldini turned to address his mix of American and British sailors. “Do you remember during the war, when the Marines and the Army got all the credit for the amphibious battles?”
The men grumbled in assent, some booing and others making disparaging jokes.
“Well we still don’t get credit for this given the nature of the mission, but let’s win some glory anyway! Gentlemen, it’s time to take this island!”
The sailors let out a cheer as they waded through the shallows and charged the beach with weapons drawn. As they moved further inland, they linked up with the Triad men on the beach, and formed an enveloping maneuver to surround Sheng’s men who were leaving the compound. Realizing their situation, Sheng’s men saw no other recourse but to throw down their weapons and surrender. Maldini wasn’t quite sure what the legal status of these new prisoners was, but that was a problem for the lawyers to figure out. With the fight dying down almost as quickly as it had begun, Maldini could turn his attention to looking through the crowd to find an old friend.
“Tommy Malloy, look at you, the local boy made good!”
Tommy was caught by surprise and started laughing at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, wearing a newly tailored suit, helping Triad bosses and British spies recapture an uninhabited island from rogue Chinese and Russian intelligence officers, and running into an old neighborhood friend in the process.
“Speaking of local boys made good, look at you, Frankie! Executive Officer of a nuclear submarine? Us Philly boys are going places.”
“So I have to ask, how the hell does a Hollywood star like you end up in a place like this?” Maldini finally asked.
“Frank, old buddy, someday soon we are going to sit down over a beer, and I will tell just how I got here. But for now, we have more to do. Did you happen to see any boats try to escape?”
“One guy went through our blockade in a small motor boat. We stopped him and asked a few questions, but his story checked out so we let him go,” Maldini said.
“That must have been Kharlamov,” Tommy thought aloud. “But what about Sheng?”
“That must be the one you’re looking for,” Maldini said, watching a speedy motor boat emerge from a hidden out cove and speed through the makeshift fleet that was now mostly unmanned.
Tommy waived to summon Han, Richard, and Millie over. “We need to move fast. Let’s get to those boats.”
Chapter 26
General Sheng snuck his way down the hillside, using the chaos around him to his advantage. Halfway down, he dove under the cover of a particularly large rock and looked around to take acc
ount of the situation. His compound was being ruined, and most of his men, including Peng and Schumacher, were surrendering. It was a setback to be sure, but in the grand scheme of things, they were all replaceable. He found it odd that he hadn’t seen General Kharlamov, but it was every man for himself at this point.
After a few more rounds of running and diving, Sheng made it to coastline, where he climbed into a small motorboat in a concealed out cove. He watched closely and waited until the flotilla of fishing junks and maritime patrol boats had emptied their men onto the shore, and then seized the opportunity to surge forward, speeding through their distracted ranks. He felt relieved that he had thought to place the bomb beforehand. While he would have to adapt his overall strategy on the fly, all he had to do now was make it across the border and await the fallout.
*****
“My men are at your disposal, Major,” Frank Maldini said to Richard as they climbed aboard an empty patrol boat.
“Send as many men as you spare to search Victoria Harbour, but try to keep things discrete as possible, we don’t want a panic on our hands just yet,” Richard said.
Millie climbed behind them while Tommy followed Han onto the Antelope. Many of the navy men returned to their boats, while the rest remained on the island with the Triad men to help guard the prisoners. Frank guided the boat into the open water while Millie made a radio call.
“I called the Hong Kong Police, they’re going to have their bomb-disposal units standing by, and the Maritime Police are sending boats to intercept Sheng before he reaches the border,” she explained.
“All the officers on my sub have been to nuclear power school. Between that and the bomb unit, we should be able to figure out whatever Sheng left for us,” said Frank.
Frank increased the speed as the small boat jetted through the archipelago of outlying islands, then had to slow down once more when they approached the congested sea lanes leading into Victoria Harbour. They merged into the traffic of the vessels coming and going from the world’s busiest port, blissfully unaware of the mortal peril lurking in their midst.
Frank steered the boat over towards where the USS Starfish was moored to a pier, and slowed down to a stop next to the submarine. The sailors standing guard on the pier tensed up at the boat’s approach, but then relaxed when they recognized their XO.
“Report my return,” Frank announced as he climbed out of the boat and approached the gangway leading onto the submarine.
“Aye aye, Sir,” the sailor on watch responded.
“I’ll be right back,” Maldini called back to Richard and Millie before walking down a hatch and disappearing into the submarine’s interior.
“Don’t you wonder what it’s like to go on one of those things?” Millie asked Richard while they waited.
Richard shrugged, “Not really, there’s a reason I picked the Army.”
“But still, don’t you think it would be interesting to explore the depths of the ocean?”
Richard shook his head. “If we were meant to go underwater, we would have been fish.”
Before they could launch into a debate on the tensions of technology and social progress, Maldini reemerged, holding a stack of small rectangular boxes. Each box had a series of gauges displaying various numbers, and there were metallic wands attached by cords to each box.
“Have you ever used a Geiger Counter before?” he asked. “It’s very easy, let me demonstrate.”
Once Richard and Millie demonstrated a minimum competency using the counters, Maldini sent them on their way while he led a small group of sailors into another small boat. “We’ll split up and search the harbor. Hopefully we can find this thing before it gives birth to Godzilla.”
With that, Richard and Millie set out into the harbor, setting off on their thankless task of finding a dirty bomb in a haystack. “Try to think like General Sheng,” said Richard. “If you were in his position, where would you hide it?”
“Given what we know of his goals, I would guess he’d put at as close to the submarines as possible to make sure they get destroyed,” Millie said.
“I concur,” said Richard as he steered the rudder, slowly taking the boat around the submarines’ security perimeter.
Finding no readings in the immediate vicinity of the subs, they steered out into the sea lane that led in and out of the harbor, marked by rows of red buoys on one side and green buoys on the other.
“Red, right, returning,” Millie said.
Richard looked up from his Geiger counter and raised an eyebrow.
“When returning to the harbor, the red buoys will be on the right-hand side or starboard as they say. I don’t know much about boats but I remember that much.”
“That’s good that you know how to build a harbor. That will come in handy if this bomb goes off and we have to build a new one,” Richard said.
Millie rolled her eyes at his black humor. As the boat continued on its way through the harbor, she began to brainstorm. “What if Sheng put the bomb inside a buoy? Would that be feasible?”
Richard shrugged, “I don’t see why not.”
He eased back on the throttle, and they slowly coasted past the buoys, scanning each one as they went. Sure enough, the Geiger counters went berserk when they passed the fifth green buoy.
“Looks like women’s intuition was right again,” Millie said.
“Alright, we found our bomb,” said Richard. “What do you want to do now? Does your women’s intuition know anything about explosive ordinance disposal?”
“No, Dick, that’s why we’re going to call it in and wait here until the Navy and the bomb unit get here.”
“So, that’s it then? Just like that?”
“Did you have any other ideas?”
“No, I mean, it just seems a bit anticlimactic is all.”
“This isn’t Hollywood, Richard. We don’t have to have the suave British spy who’s an expert at everything diffuse the bomb at the last second and save the world. There’s nothing wrong with calling in the professionals.”
Left without a retort, Richard made the necessary radio calls. “Nice day for a picnic on the water,” he said as the police boats began to arrive on the scene.
*****
The wooden hull of the Antelope creaked and groaned as Han pushed the aging boat to its maximum speed. Tommy stood hunched over the side, his skin turning almost as green as the tropical water. He was struggling mightily to keep his balance as the boat rocked violently up and down.
Against the horizon, Tommy could see a line of vessels from the Maritime Police forming a security cordon along the Hong Kong side of the Chinese border. Sheng’s motor boat, smaller and faster than the Antelope, had pulled far out ahead, but found its path across the border stymied by the security patrols. With no way forward, Sheng turned his boat hard to the right, running parallel to the police boats in an attempt to run around their flank.
The Antelope was steadily gaining while the cat-and mouse game unfolded. The police boats anticipated Sheng’s escape attempt and began a turn of their own to launch an enveloping maneuver. To evade the trap, Sheng spun around in a one hundred-and-eighty degree turn, now running parallel to the police in the opposite direction, hoping to slip around the rear of their line. While the police boats struggled to change direction in an organized fashion, the Antelope found itself standing directly in Sheng’s path. From his position at the helm, Han reached for a rope that was securely attached to the deck at one end and fastened with a grappling hook at the other, and tossed it to Tommy.
“Alright, Hong Kong Harry, you played a pirate in the movies, but now it’s time to do the real thing.”
Tommy held the grappling hook awkwardly and looked up at Han. “Why do you even have this?”
“You ask too many questions!” Han responded.
As Sheng came bearing down on their position, Tommy got into his throwing stance, knowing he would only get one shot at it. When the motorboat roared by them, spraying salty water in his fa
ce, he reached his arm back, stepped forward, and heaved the rope. The hook landed on the bow of Sheng’s boat before skidding a few inches and latching onto one of the metal cleats. The line pulled taut with a sudden jolt as Sheng’s smaller, lighter bolt whipped around and came to a stop. It was the best throw Tommy had made since the one he made in high school from left field to throw out the potential winning run in the Philadelphia Catholic League championship.
Now that he felt like a real pirate, Tommy’s adrenaline convinced him that it would be a good idea to climb over the side of the Antelope and board Sheng’s boat. But before he could make it, Sheng noticed him coming and spun around with a gun drawn, firing wildly. As Tommy dove for cover, he heard some more loud bangs as Han responded to Sheng’s gunfire. When everything went silent, he looked up to see Han standing over him, surveying the damage.
“Nice throw,” Han said. “We got that bastard.”
“That’s it?” Tommy asked. “You just shot him, and it’s all over?”
“What, did you think we were going to have an epic martial arts battle or something?”
Tommy looked back in silence, lacking a suitable retort.
“That would be so stupid. I have a perfectly functioning gun,” Han said.
One of the police boats pulled alongside to take possession of Sheng’s boat while the rest of them were diverted to assist in securing the bomb in the harbor.
“What do you want to do now?” Han asked.
Tommy shrugged, “How about that floating seafood restaurant in Aberdeen?”
Chapter 27
A cool breeze blew over the veranda of the Covington estate, providing welcome relief from the swelter of the afternoon sun. Tommy slowly rocked back and forth in a wooden rocking chair, drinking a Tom Collins. Han sat in an adjacent chair, relaxing with a cocktail of his own. Their vantage point offered a commanding view of the luscious green of the Peak and the bustle of the city below. Along the horizon, tug boats were busy underway as the USS Starfish and HMS Apollo prepared to depart.
