The Isle of Devils HOLY WAR

by R. C. Farrington

  Savage and Storm got on the scooter. However this time Savage drove. Their destination was to go back to St. George’s.

  Destination Dockyard

  The next afternoon the two crime fighters met for lunch at one of Savage's favorite restaurants in St. George's. Storm got his first taste of bangers and mash, the British dish of pork sausage and mashed potatoes with onion gravy poured over the top. Storm said, “Well, Savage, this is pretty good. I'm pleasantly surprised.”

  Savage responded, “Most yanks like this dish.” They went on with some small talk until they finished their meal.

  Finally Storm asked, “Well, Savage, what happened last night when the NASA Center was inspected?”

  Savage sat there for a minute turning red in the face and finally said, “Those bloody terrorists had the facility completely scrubbed down before the Commissioner’s men arrived. They didn’t even find a single fingerprint.”

  Storm replied, “There’s no way they had time to get that mess cleaned up. That room looked like a war went on in it.”

  Savage snapped back, “Well, I’m telling you, mate. All they found was some weather tracking equipment and ship to shore radios. The Commissioners men handled it well. Not much suspicion was raised.”

  Storm added, “They’re not stupid. You can bet they’ll be watching their back sides from here on out. So what did the Commissioner have to say to you? I’ll bet that was a good phone conversation.”

  Savage replied, “He was ok. He did say one more mess up, and you would be on the next flight back to the US.”

  Storm asked, “Was that really all he said?”

  Savage hesitated and added, “No, he said I would be on the same flight with you.”

  Storm replied with a smile, “Well, at least we know we’re in this together.”

  Savage then asked, “Not to change the subject, but did you have any luck with that satellite picture of Casemates last night?”

  Storm replied, “Of course. The satellite passed over Bermuda this morning so if we can get to a computer with an internet connection on it, I can check my e-mail and download the picture.”

  Savage replied, “Well, mate, let’s head over to my office at the St. George's police station, and we'll get your picture.”

  The two finished lunch and walked over to the police station. Once in Savage's office Savage logged into his computer. He stood up pointing to his computer and said, “Go for it, mate. It's all yours”.

  Stormed moved over to the computer and said, “Thanks. Give me a few minutes, and we'll see what my good buddy e-mailed me. In no time Storm was logged in to his e-mail account and waiting for the picture to download and print. Storm said, “I hope you have a good printer; so we can see some decent detail.”

  Savage snapped back, “Don’t worry, mate. It’s a photographic printer. If your picture is any good we should see what’s going on.”

  While they waited on the printer to produce the aerial view of Casemates Storm spoke up, “You know what I think, Savage?”

  Savage replied, “No, but I know you’re going to tell me.”

  Storm laughed then went on to say, “I don’t think this is a terrorist cell.”

  Savage was a bit surprised and asked, “Are you bloody nuts? Look at this and tell me what you see.” He grabbed the aerial photo from the printer and flipped it over to Storm.

  Storm was still smiling as he looked at the photo and replied, “Look at the grounds of Casemates. It looks like a training ground for terrorists. This is no terrorist cell. It’s a terrorist training camp. They’ve invested millions in this operation so it has to be a major attack like 911.”

  Savage already knew what was coming next. He added, “I know, I know. Nobody’s going to believe this even if we show the photo. So it looks to me like the two of us misfits are going to Casemates tonight and stir the pot.”

  Storm nodded his head; then both men got up from their chairs and left Savage’s office. They agreed to meet before dusk at King’s Square and catch the ferry boat to the Dockyard.

  The timing of this unofficial investigation was good for Savage. His family was in the UK on holiday which meant he didn't have to explain his unusual whereabouts to anyone without causing concern. He entered his cottage double checking all the doors and windows making sure his Arab friends had not been snooping around. After he felt comfortable that he was alone, and no one had broken into his home, he made a change of clothes from his usual light colored shirt and Bermuda shorts and knee socks to a black long sleeve shirt and black slacks. He wanted to make sure if they were milling around Casemates his dark clothing would help hide him in the darkness. Savage was also a realist. He knew that these terrorists would be playing for keeps. He took a note pad from the small chest next to the bed and left his wife a short note on her pillow, just in case he never returned. Savage then dropped to his knees, reached under the bed and pulled out a small locked security box. He quickly keyed the combination into the box and opened it. He reached into the box and lifted out two black handkerchiefs with something wrapped up inside of each of them. Savage shoved the handkerchiefs in his two back pockets then closed the box and slid it back under his bed. Savage then left the cottage and made his way back to the square.

  The two met up at King’s Square as planned and caught the high speed ferry to the dockyard. As the ferry neared the Dockyard Storm was reminded of a carnival. It was now dark, and the Dockyard was brilliantly lit with lights on the old majestic buildings and on the palm trees. One of the cruise ships touring the Island was docked at the Dockyard tonight and the lights of the ship added to the atmosphere. . The ferry was now gliding slowly towards the landing. Storm was amazed at the hundreds of tourists and Bermudians mingling around the carnival tents.

  As they left the ferry Savage said, “Come on, mate. Follow me. I’m starving. I’ll introduce you to some fish chowder and cassava pie. It’s the best cuisine on the island”.

  Storm replied, “Are you sure I can’t get a pizza and beer?”

  Savage smiled and added, “Actually you can. They serve just about whatever you want eat here. But believe me, fish chowder and cassava pie can’t be beat.”

  Storm gave in and said, “Alright, but aren’t we wasting time? Shouldn’t we be making our way to Casemate’s?”

  Nearing the food tents Savage replied, “We can’t do a thing until the entertainment starts. Under the cover of the large crowd and noise we will be able to slip over to Casemate’s without being noticed.” Savage walked to one of the vendors and ordered their dinner. The two sat down and looked around while they were eating.

  Storm was amazed at the sheer number of vendors selling souvenirs ranging from paintings to sea shells. The entertainment tonight was very loud. This would definitely work in their favor.

  Savage interrupted Storms daydreaming by saying, “Well, mate, it’s time to shove off and break in to my favorite prison tonight. I sure hope there aren’t any ghosts of ex-prisoners I helped lockup over the years waiting for us tonight.”

  Storm laughed and said, “You’d better be more worried about the new caretakers of Casemates.”

  As the two were making their way through the crowd someone bumped Savage in the side almost knocking him down. Savage reached out instinctively grabbing the man by the shoulder saying, “Hey mate, what’s the bloody rush?” The man tried not to turn around as he moved on. It then hit Savage who this mystery man was. Savage added, “Well, if it isn’t my good friend, Krack.” He looked down at Krack’s hands and could see he was counting a fistful of money and not paying attention as to where he was going. Savage asked, “Krack, where in the world did you get all that money? Did you just win the lottery?”

  Krack quickly shoved the money into his pants pocket and said, “No mon, I just made a delivery of sea shells to one of the local vendors.”

  Storm joined in saying, “I think Krack was selling something else tonight. Savage, in the US it would get him ten to twenty years in the pen. W
hat will it get my man in Bermuda?”

  Before Savage could respond Krack said, “Look mon, I’m not selling dope. I’m an honest hard working Bermudian.”

  Savage snapped back, “Now wait a minute, mate. You’re Jamaican; so don’t give me that bull. So my hard working friend, where in the world did you get that wad of US cash?”

  Krack replied, “Ok, ok. Remember I told you the Arabs were buying stuff and paying mega prices for it?”

  Savage replied, “Yes, I remember. Go on; so what’s that got to do with you?”

  Krack continued, “Well, I wanted to cash in on some of this; so I sold them some goods.”

  Storm interrupted, “And that was?”

  Krack gave Storm a dirty look and said, “Don’t push me, mon. I’ll tell you. I sold them ten US prepaid cell phones.”

  Savage asked, “What good are prepaid US cell phones in Bermuda? They probably won’t even work here.”

  Krack fired back, “Who cares? They paid me ten thousand US dollars for the lot of them.”

  Storm asked, “Any chance you can point out who you sold the phones to?”

  Krack laughed and said, “Do you think I’m a snitch? I wouldn’t last ten minutes if I told you.”

  Savage interrupted, “Ok then, Krack, tell me. Didn’t you spend time in Casemates before they shut it down?”

  Krack replied, “Yes mon, I’m proud to say I survived that bloody rat trap.”

  Savage responded, “I’m sure you won’t mind showing us a way into Casemates without going through the front door.”

  Krack looked a little bewildered by Savage’s statement. He then replied, “You’re crazy, mon, I spent years trying to break out. Why in the hell do you think I would want to break into the prison?”

  Savage laughed and said, “Look, mate, if you want to keep that ten grand I think you’ll be the first prisoner in Bermuda history to break into prison. Right, mate? ”

  Storm spoke up, “Before we go breaking into prison we need to go down to the dock. I want to check out that Saudi oil tanker.”

  Savage nodded his head in agreement and the three made their way through the crowd that had now gathered while the band was playing. They appeared to make their way down to the tanker without being noticed, unless they were being watched from the Casemate’s guard tower. It was clear the tanker was a Saudi registered tanker. There were Arabic markings on it and the tankers name was ‘Sahara Gold’.

  Storm was first to notice the huge pipeline running from the oil tanks next to Casemates to the tanker. He said, “That’s the biggest pipeline I’ve ever seen. Isn’t that a bit of over kill for the size of this tanker?”

  Savage scratching his head said, “See that small pipe line running parallel to the big one? Did that used to be the oil transfer line also?”

  Krack added, “That pipe’s so big, I could walk through it.”

  Savage and Storm looked at each other thinking the same thing. Storm spoke up first, “I wonder if our friends are passing something else through that line beside oil.”

  Savage, “What in the world would they be trying to smuggle into Bermuda?”

  Storm whisper so only Savage could hear him, “Maybe items that a terrorist might need.”

  Savage turned to Krack and said, “Well, my main mon, what’s your plan for getting us into Casemates?”

  Krack replied, “We’ll follow the pipe line to the wall. Then we’ll climb up the wall and sneak across the road. There’s an old gate there that will allow us access into the storage tank facility. From there we can get into Casemates without being noticed.”

  They all paused to look up at the stone fortress as the full moon cast an eerie light over the entire complex. A sense of evil crept over the three. Krack was ready to leave, but Storm and Savage would have none of that.

  Storm shook off the strange feeling and turning to Savage asked, “Will the man’s plan work?”

  Savage replied, “I trust Krack; so let’s give it a go. You first, Krack. We’re right behind you.” Krack grumbled and moved along the pipeline staying out of sight of the guard tower. The trio made it to the old stone wall and helped each other climb over the wall. Once on the narrow road they quickly ran across and were completely out of sight of the guard tower.

  Storm turned to the other two and said, “I don’t know about this plan.”

  Krack, on the defensive asked, “What’s the matter, mon, you scared?”

  Storm replied, “Hell no, but look around. First, we’re standing in the middle of a road. What happens if someone who works in Casemates just happens by in a car or on a scooter? Also look at that ground down there that we’ll have to walk across. It’s lit up like daylight. What if there’s a guard down there walking around the storage tanks?”

  Savage said back, “Well, mate, if you want to go home to your mum that’s fine, but I think we need to get going.”

  Krack tried to open the gate only to find it chained and locked. He turned and looked at Savage.

  Savage popped back, “What the bloody hell you looking at me for, mate?” He turned back to Storm and said, “Houdini, get your bloody butt up here and pick this lock.”

  Storm stepped up to the gate and started to reach into his pocket. He quickly turned sideways kicking the gate with a karate kick. The chain and lock didn’t budge an inch, but the old hinges holding the gate to the fence post crumbled. The gate fell over on its side. Storm turned to Savage and said, “Sorry, I forgot my FBI issued lock pick. Will this do?”

  Savage replied, “I think so. I’ll go first and, Krack, you follow behind Storm.”

  The three went through the gate opening and down the steps to the ground level. They quickly crawled across the ground trying to stay out of sight, but that was impossible due to the bright lights. If a guard happened to be walking by they would be spotted. After crawling for about twenty yards they made it to a hill that ran parallel with the wall. Now they could crawl with the incline of the hill and stay in the shadows at the same time. As they made their way up the hillside Storm could see that they might be able to scale the wall at the highpoint of the hill. Storm was in the lead, closely followed by Savage with Krack bringing up the rear.

  The trio had no idea that they were being watched from the top of the wall that surrounded Casemate's. Krack was beginning to get nervous. As Storm and Savage crawled up the hillside, Krack began backing down the hillside. He reached the bottom of the hillside and turned to make his escape back to the road, but before he could move someone stepped out of the shadows and grabbed him. Krack was struck in the face knocking him back against the stone wall. He tried to shake it off, but before he could a rope was dropped over the side of the wall. The attacker quickly secured the rope around Krack and signaled someone on top of the wall to pull him up. With all the commotion Storm and Savage turned to look back down the hillside. Savage yelled out, “Look, those bloody Arabs have Krack!” Savage jumped up and began running back down the hillside with Storm not far behind him. But by the time they reached ground level all they could see was Krack being pulled over the top of the wall. Savage started banging his fist on the stone wall, but before he could say anything bullets began to rain down on the two from the top pinning them down.

  Storm grabbed Savage by the arm and pulled him back to the other side of the hill. They were now out of the line of fire, but they were also trapped. Storm turned to Savage and said, “I thought guns were illegal in Bermuda.”

  Savage replied, “I guess we forgot to tell that to the terrorists.”

  Storm added, “What now we can’t make it back to the gate without being shot. If there’s any of Hooda’s men up the hill at the storage tanks then we’re sitting ducks. ”

  Before Savage could reply an Arab from the top of the Casemate’s wall yelled down, “Infidels, we have your friend. If you want to see him alive again please step out into the open and show yourselves.”