Staring at William for a moment, he nodded and faced the other bodyguards.
“We need to stop this crap and get customs onto that ship now. Suggestions?”
John looked confused and said,
“Without going to jail for a long time?”
Tiny considered how he should answer and then said,
“This is a short term blip that won’t be remembered.” He indicated the police guarding the customs officers and the Inspector in the patrol car.
“Whatever we do in a few moments won’t be remembered by them. “
John scoffed with derision.
“Bullshit. We attack the police and release the customs guys, we’ll be in the scrubs faster than you can say madness.” He grinned at Tiny.
“I’m in. Boys?” He asked the others.
“This has got so boring, shall we?”
They all nodded without hesitation. William stood stunned unsure what to say. He decided on a simple response.
“Thank you.”
***
Ernest was still struggling to understand the dichotomy that concerned touch. The living, he could whoosh through with ease, top to bottom or side to side. Other spirits however; were solid, tangible, a force he could push against. This curious reversal of the laws of nature now meant he could address the Charles problem himself.
Charles was at roof level enjoying an unobstructed view of the chaos he was causing between the police and customs below. Ernest motioned to Jonas to join him. Seconds later when he was by Ernest’s side, he told Jonas what they were going to do. Jonas grinned and rose up and to his left. Ernest went in the opposite direction, high and to his right. On a signal from Ernest, they both accelerated down banking around until they were on parallel paths accelerating at Charles back. Puffing themselves up to maximise their slighter physiques, they accelerated faster and faster at Charles. They covered the intervening distance in complete silence, leaving Charles unaware that they were there. The force of the impact surprised him, he hadn’t been sure how effective their combined power would be. They hit Charles and kept driving forward pushing him over the edge of the building and then downwards towards the tarmac of the car park.
They used the momentum they had from their impact with Charles and the acceleration from the fall to ground level. Aligning themselves with the church of St Saviours they continued to surged forward forcing Charles to go faster and faster.
Charles was struggling and cursing; twisting, turning and all the time screeching to Helena to assist him but she had to concentrate on stopping Juanita wrecking her cloaking of the cocaine’s location. Charles’s struggling increased as his rage multiplied. Ernest and the less fit Jonas had begun tiring with the effort of driving forward towards St Saviours church and keeping Charles pinioned in their grasp. Sensing that Jonas was on the verge of collapse and with his own strength was beginning to fail him, he saw the spire of St Saviours five hundred meters ahead. Adjusting their alignment to ensure that Charles would not be aware of his destination, he grinned at Jonas and screamed,
“Not long, hang on.” They put in a final massive effort and sped up holding him away from the church, stopping him from guessing what they were trying to do. The plan was simple and used an obvious flaw in both Charles’s and Helena’s powers. They couldn’t fight religion and were rendered powerless and unable to move or function in any building used for religious purposes. They shrivelled and became nothing. If they were released, they regained their form and powers, though to a lesser extent.
“The Sanderson brothers have failed again, I can feel you tiring. As soon as I escape, and I will, I’ll destroy you and then redouble my efforts to humiliate and hurt your pathetic family.”
Ignoring his taunting, Ernest adjusted his position in relation to the church and they continued to push their exhausted bodies closer. Two hundred meters.
“Helena and her master Satan, will pull you into the lowest reaches of hell and subject you to torments lasting for eternity.”
Charles’s struggling had become less ferocious as his confidence grew with each passing sentence. He was almost still, allowing Ernest and Jonas to focus on the last fifty meters they had to cover to get him to St Saviours.
Charles’s floundering again became more focused as he squirmed to see where they were going. He had realised too late, that Ernest and Jonas were taking him to a specific destination and weren’t just removing him from the vicinity of the warehouse. Ten meters.
With a final effort of biblical proportions, Ernest and Jonas hurled Charles and themselves through the walls of St Saviours and collapsed to the floor. Ernest lay still on the floor of the church. Exhausted, waves of nausea washing over him. Could ghosts throw up? Charles was swirling around him hurling taunts and venom.
“You’re as worthless as the rest of your, hapless pathetic family. Have you forgotten; we’re ghosts, buildings can’t contain us.”
He flew at the wall, expecting to go straight through and back to the CHC warehouse complex. He hit the wall at speed and bounced back into the room, stunned and angry. He soared to the full height of the room and then using his altitude accelerated at the bottom of the wall. He hit the wall full on and collapsed in a heap on the floor, the blow leaving him barely conscious.
Ernest smiled, his strength was returning and Charles was learning a valuable lesson.
“Jonas would you like to explain to Charles why he is struggling to breach these walls?” Jonas shook his head still too exhausted and indicated his brother should continue.
“Look around you Charles, I’m sure Helena told you.” Charles looked confused. Uncomprehending, he did as Ernest suggested. For the first time he noticed the windows, stained glass. The pews and at the far end the altar. He struggled up and picked up a book from the top of the pile at the entrance to the building. The Book of Common Prayer.
He stared at his hands and then his body and legs, they were fading, disappearing before his eyes. The look of fear was unexpected. Ernest glared at him and said.
“Goodbye Charles. We need to finish what was started forty years ago. Jonas, we need to go. William and Juanita need us.”
***
Ernest and Jonas rushed back to the CHC warehouse, covering the mile and a half in seconds. Ernest deposited his brother on the roof and surveyed the scene below. He could see that the police had released the customs officers and Jemima had stopped screaming and had been lifted onto the rear seat of a Range Rover to recover.
“William, Ben, is everyone ok?”
Ben replied, as William was talking to Tiny, the police inspector and the head of the customs team.
“We’re fine. William and Tiny are coordinating the police and customs and they will be boarding the ship in a few minutes. Juanita is above with Helena.” He indicated the sky above the ship, and continued,
“Before the customs board she has to be neutralised or they won’t find anything.” Ernest stared at the swirling figures above, Juanita and Helena still locked together, identical in every respect, but one. Him, Ernest. The unknown, forgotten quantity.
“Ben, delay them,” he pointed at the police and customs officers.
“Five minutes should do it. I’ll signal you, keep an eye out above.” He pointed up at the swooping ghosts. Ernest leapt up and began working his way towards Juanita and Helena.
Ben watched him for a moment and then turned and called to William,
“William, can you come here a moment please?” William turned and held up a single finger indicating.
“William, now please.”
William looking exasperated came across to Ben and snapped,
“What? What can’t wait one minute?”
Ben put his arm around Williams shoulder and turned him away from the police and customs officers.
“Stall them, Ernest needs five minutes. Otherwise, they will go on board and find nothing. What can you do?”
William shrugged and then smiled as the answer hit him.<
br />
“Prevaricate.”
Chapter 45
Helena needed Juanita distracted. The ship had docked and the pointless customs inspection could begin if she could divert her to other more pressing matters. Staring at the throng of bodies below her, she identified Matt and said into his head,
“Kill the man the police are holding in custody. When that is complete, kill Jemima Cortez. Succeed and your sister is safe forever. Fail and the bitch will roast.”
Matt muttered to John that he needed the toilet and would be back in five. Slipping along the side of the warehouse to the parked police cars, he saw the car holding the prisoner. The police had only left one officer with him, no problem Matt thought. He screwed a silencer onto the end of his Glock 9 mm and walked towards the police car with his hand behind his back. The police officer recognising him as one of the close protection team, opened his window to greet him. Matt fired two rounds into the officer’s head at a range of a foot, killing him instantly. Through the open window he saw the large handcuffed figure he had been told to kill. As he raised his pistol the man said with pride,
“Felicity’s playing to win.” As he spoke the final word the first bullet hit him in the centre of his chest, destroying his heart. The second went through his skull into the seat behind.
Leaving the silencer attached to the Glock, Matt walked back down the side of the warehouse and began walking towards Jemima in her wheelchair. Passing the main huddled of his colleagues who were still arguing with the police, he adjusted his approach so that he would come at Jemima on John’s blind side. The stone that he kicked was his undoing. His focus had been on Jemima and John and he hadn’t been paying attention to the ground in front of him. He needed to get to within fifteen metres; John wouldn’t give him any second chances if he missed with his first shot.
John turned, saw it was Matt and started to move back towards Jemima and Ben. He had noticed something. He didn’t know what, but something. Coming around, his pistol drawn he shouted at Matt,
“Stand still and bring you hands where I can see them.” Matt stared at him for a moment. He didn’t have a choice. The consequences were irrelevant. He was twenty-five meters away which was further than he would have liked.
John’s shout had alerted Tiny and he swung around, taking in the situation, unholstering his pistol, and bringing it on target. As his pistol came up he shouted at Matt.
“Matt drop it now.” Matt looked at Tiny and John a half smile on his face. His silenced Glock came from behind his back and up to chest level in a smooth, fluid movement; Jemima’s head was his target. The safety was off and he squeezed the trigger.
The bullet clipped the top of the Range Rover behind Jemima and John, missing her by over a foot. As Matt’s gun had come up to chest height, John and Tiny had both fired at him. John’s bullet penetrated his heart shredding tissue and bone. Tiny hit him in the centre of his forehead killing him outright. As soon as he had fired John had dived on top of Jemima shielding her with his body and Tiny had leapt forward placing himself between Matt and Jemima. As Matt hit the ground Tiny charged forward and kicked his gun away and bellowed,
“Clear.” John checked a shocked Jemima for injuries and then shouted,
“Safe and well.” The bodyguards had formed a protective circle around their principals, facing out to repel any further attacks. Tiny looked at John and said,
“Get them back to the cars and out of here, now.” Before John could answer, Jemima shouted,
“No, forget it. That was my sister exacting revenge. She failed, we’re not going to.” Jemima looked at William and hoped he would understand. William hesitated for a moment all eyes on him, he was the boss. He turned to Tiny,
“We stay until this is finished. Do what you need to do to protect us, but we’re staying.”
Ernest had got to within one hundred feet before anyone noticed he was there. Juanita saw him and gave him a curious look, but didn’t waste time or focus questioning his presence, she just waited to see why he was here and what he would do.
Helena on her next circuit spotted him and screamed out,
“Charles, why is Sanderson here? Remove him.” There was, of course, no response.
Still furious, she bellowed again.
“Charles, what are you doing?”
Ernest floated alongside them a look of amusement on his face at Helena’s fury. Unable to contain himself any longer and conscious of the time frame he had given Ben, he asked Juanita.
“Where do you think Helena should have told Charles never to go?”
Juanita still concentrating looked blank. Wagging his finger he said,
“You don’t know? Well, I guess you are quite busy. Same question to Helena. Where should you have told Charles never to go?” Without waiting for an answer, he ignored her and addressed Juanita again.
“She should have said to him, ‘avoid at all cost anything with a religious overtone.’ Specifically, she should have told him to avoid any religious buildings. Temples, mosques, synagogues and more than anything; churches.” Helena interrupted him with a scream.
“Of course I did, you moron. Charles would never go anywhere near anything religious. Christianity is to evil, as garlic is to vampires. Charles, here now, idiot.”
Ernest looked at Juanita and gave an imperceptible nod at Helena. Her rage was causing her to lose focus. His next revelation would heighten her to a state of frantic lividity.
“I wonder why then, he is now shrivelled and fading in the church of St Saviours a mile or so that way?” He waved in the general direction of the church.
Helena’s response was more than he could have hoped for. She broke away from Juanita and flew at him overcome with an uncontrollable rage. He had been expecting a big response, but nothing so undisciplined or foolhardy. Ernest dodged her and shot across the sky towards St Saviours with Helena in close pursuit. Juanita took this opportunity to break Helena’s concealment of the cocaine and then yelled at William and Ben below.
“Go, go, go. Now.” Turning she sped after Ernest and Helena.
***
William talked as he had never talked before. He waxed lyrical about the importance of ‘our valiant quest,’ the evil of drugs and the love of family. His years as a practising vicar, writing a sermon each week, often on the flimsiest of pretexts, meant he was just getting into his stride when he heard Juanita shout to himself and Ben to go. Without a pause he signalled to Tiny and said,
“Gentlemen, let’s go.” He broke into a gentle jog followed by Ben, hoping this display of athleticism would spur the others to follow. Within seconds Tiny, the bodyguards and police overtook him followed by the customs officers in vans with their equipment and dogs.
The operation went like clockwork. The police stormed up the gangplank demanding to see the captain. The customs officers swarmed onto the ship with search dogs and mobile X-ray and ultrasound equipment. Within five minutes the dogs were walking up and down in front of the logs, unsure whether to sit down next to the stacks of logs showing they had found what they had been searching for or keep pacing. Annabel wheeled Jemima up the gangplank flanked by Eric.
Jemima called to one of the customs officers,
“Remember, don’t waste your time on anything with a diameter less than seventy centimetres.” Ben looked up from the laptop he was typing into with one hand as he walked behind Annabel, pushing Jemima.
“Don’t waste your time looking at the timber.”
Jemima shouted,
“Stop.” and Annabel slowed the wheelchair down and stopped halfway up the gangplank. Jemima twisted around as much as she could and said to Ben,
“Why?”
“It was something that Pablo said that’s been bothering me. He said and I quote ‘Now it is the pure water, no?’ He also agreed when you said the timber had been shelved. The waters on the container ships. I’ve finally managed to identify one container that is carrying mineral water from Rio Pure National Park. Rio Pure means,
pure river. The brand of mineral water is called, Agua Pura de la Amazonia; pure water from the Amazon. Three distributors import this water. One in Manchester, one in London and one Belfast. I have checked with each of these distributors, none of the water they import is sold in Great Britain or Europe. In fact I cannot find a single stockist anywhere in the world. The exporting company is wholly owned by Cameron Holdings.” Ben looked at Jemima and could see she wasn’t convinced by his supposition.
“Seems a bit thin. Ben we have fifty customs officers here ready to rip this ship apart to search for cocaine in trees, that is a method we know they have used. We have to go with it.” Ben looked at his laptop focusing on the screen.
“The container containers a thousand, fifteen litre water bottles for water cooler machines. Remember when I took you all through the maths to support my assumption that the cocaine was on the tankers?” Jemima nodded and looked anxiously at the customs officers who were waiting for her instructions to begin.
“Yes, I remember. Cocaine dissolves at a rate of two kilograms per litre of water.” Ben nodded and said
“Do the arithmetic. Each water bottle will contain thirty kilograms of cocaine. There are two hundred bottles. That is six thousand kilograms or six tonnes of cocaine. Buried deep in the depths of the other containers no one will even give it a second glance, It’s water and it’s buried amongst hundreds of other indistinguishable bottles.” Ben could see she wasn’t completely convinced.
“Okay. Can I take a dog handler and a customs officer to play out my hunch and the rest can attack the trees?” Jemima shouted across to the Deep Rummage Team.
“I need a dog handler and a customs officer please. Also Tiny, Ben’s security needs to go with him.” She pointed at the container ship docking further up Fawley Water.
“We need to search that ship as well.” Realising she was taking control she turned to William and said,
“If that’s okay with you William?” William nodded smiling.
Bacchus and Sanderson (Deceased) Page 37
