Tanker (A Tim Burr Thriller Book 1)

by Nicholas E Watkins

  Annubis settled the hotel bill with a credit card that was untraceable and would never be used again and stored his luggage. He then made his way to the Hamam, arriving an hour and a quarter before Mehmet, thus ensuring he would be inside before Mehmet arrived.

  He entered the room wearing his towel and tried to relax in the steam. He felt different. He usually felt little emotion but this was almost a new experience for him, anticipation or perhaps excitement? It had started as he had passed through the dilapidated brick archway between the carpet and the fabric shops. He had waited all his life to get the bastard who had taken his brother away, never to return. It was so close. He forced himself to remain calm as Mehmet entered the steam room.

  Mehmet seemed to fully relax as he let the steam cleanse him. He was in no hurry and lent back with thin rivulets of sweat on his body. Annubis concentrated on the building. It was old made of marble and granite, the ceiling, cavernous supported by an array of pillars from which large brass chandeliers hung on chains. It had been a very opulent place to come and socialise in its heyday. Now it was a bit care worn, almost grubby.

  Mehmet was being washed down by a very overweight attendant with soapy water which was taking the sweat and impurities from his body. He looked at his watch and saw it was nearly time. He rose unobtrusively and made his way to the shower before he entered the locker and changing room.

  The locker room was off the corridor that led to the private rooms used to provide the services offered by the young men that worked here. From here Annubis could see the coming and goings through the slightly opened door. He opened the locker which was full length and took his clothes from the hanger along with a gift wrapped box. He dressed and positioned himself to keep watch. He saw Baris enter the third door along carrying a bundle of white towels and a large glass bottle containing scented massage oil. He ducked out of view as Baris went off to collect Mehmet from the baths.

  Annubis, through the crack, could see Mehmet followed by Baris heading to the massage room. He allowed him to pass and quietly opened the door so that Baris could see him holding the box wrapped in silver paper. Baris smiled and put his fingers to his lips in a gesture of silence. Annubis smiled back and watched as Mehmet entered the room. Baris said, “I have forgotten something. Go in and make your self comfortable,” he turned and retraced his steps to the locker room eager to see what Annubis had bought him this time.

  Annubis signalled Baris to enter the locker room. He closed the door. “For you,” He handed the box over to Baris. He started to un-wrap the gift, “First a kiss?”

  Baris moved his face close to Annubis and their lips touched. Annubis placed his hands either side of Baris’ face and caressed him as they kissed. Then with a quick twist of both his hands, he snapped his neck with a loud crack. Annubis looked into the startled face as he watched him die.

  Even for one as fit as Annubis it was a struggle to lift the body into the locker but he managed to accomplish it. He picked up the gift wrapped box which had fallen from Baris’ hands during in his death throws. He pulled off the paper and lifted the lid and took his gun from the box. He checked the locker and closing the door behind him made his way to the massage room.

  He checked that the corridor was empty and gun in hand he entered the room. The room was small with a basin in one corner and a massage bed in the centre. Mehmet was laying face down the table, naked with his head through the hole provided. “You were a long time,” he said, as Annubis entered. There was a key in the door. It was large and antiquated. Annubis turned it so avoiding any unexpected disturbance.

  Standing behind Mehmet Annubis removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He took the glass bottle of oil and poured a small quantity of it onto the nap of Mehmet’s back. He gently rubbed the oil into his buttocks and Mehmet writhed slightly from side to side. He was becoming aroused in anticipation as Annubis slowly slide his hands to his shoulders. He readied himself and surprising Mehmet he placed his knee in the small of his back.

  His full weight was on him, pinning him to the table. In one swift movement his put his left arm round his neck and locked it in place by placing his right arm behind his neck and putting his hand in the crook of his elbow. By pushing forward he could have snapped Mehmet’s neck but he did not want a swift death for this man. He instead applied enough pressure to stem the flow of blood to his brain. They sat locked together in that position with Mehmet struggles growing slowly weaker until he slipped into unconsciousness.

  Mehmet opened his mouth and tried to shout, he couldn’t as his mouth was full of towel. He tried to move but he couldn’t as he was tied to the table. He focused his eyes and saw a young powerfully built man, big oval eyes with his sleeves rolled up pointing a gun at him.

  “Welcome back,” said Annubis, “I doubt that you remember me but we have meet. I was much younger then and you and your friends used to take turns in buggering me and forcing me to suck your dicks. Ring any bells yet?” Fear spread across Mehmet’s face.

  “Ah, I see it is coming back to you. You used to collect us in your lovely big shinny car, give us sweets then rape us. That’s it. You have it now. I was one of the boys you used. I am here to repay the favour and ask you a few questions. Now I shall take the towel out of your mouth. Obviously if you shout or scream this conversation will come to a speedy conclusion as I shall use this rather big guns to blow your brains out, do you understand?”

  He removed the towel and Mehmet took in a deep gulp of air. He started to speak, to protest, Annubis shove the barrel of the gun into his mouth forcing him to gag. “I want only one thing from you. A boy was murdered during one of your little parties. All I want to know is who was responsible? Did you kill him or if not, who did?”

  “You are confused I know nothing about any of this,” Mehmet started to protest. “I warn you I am a very powerful man and you will pay for..,”

  Annubis pushed his gun back into Mehmet’s mouth,” I must stop you there. I know who you are and in your current situation I do not think any of that is relevant.” He picked up the glass bottle filled with oil and positioned it above Mehmet flaccid penis. He tapped the neck of the bottle, with the butt of his gun, until it smashed leaving him holding the neck with a jagged serrated edge. The oil emptied from the bottle onto his member. Annubis massaged the oil in to his penis gently at first then grabbing his testicles he applied all his strength to crush them between his fingers.

  “Now I should like you to experience what I felt when you used me.” Without warning in rammed the broken bottle into Mehmet’s anus. He rotated it as he pushed. Like a drill it cut as it went deeper he pushed and turned deeper and deeper. Blood spurted and bits of soft tissue ripped from the gapping bleeding mess.

  Holding the towel over Mehmet’s mouth, he waited patiently while his screams subsided. “Hurts don’t it?”

  “Now tell me about the night you took the boy away.”

  Mehmet was shaking with fear and pain. “It was not supposed to happen. One of the guests got carried away.”

  “You?”

  “Not me, no, no, not me, you have to believe me.” He whimpered. The pool of blood was spreading across the massage table and dripping onto the floor. Annubis was careful not to step in it as he questioned him.

  “Who?”

  “A man called Jason Delonge. His is now a British diplomat.”

  “Only him?”

  “Yes, yes only him,” Mehmet was becoming desperate as the blood spread.

  “Thank you,” said Annubis and reaching down pulled the broken bottle neck from what had once been Mehmet’s anus.

  He took the bottle and using it like a saw cut away the end of Mehmet’s penis. He took a quick step back as the blood spurted and avoided getting covered. Mehmet tried to scream. Annubis brought the butt of his gun down into his open mouth smashing his front teeth to fragments. He pick up the tiny pink mess that once had been Mehmet’s penis and placed it in his bloody, broken tooth filled mouth. Mehmet passed out. �
�You won’t need one of those again,” he said

  He removed the feather from his wallet and placed it on Mehmet’s body, “A soul heavier than a feather.” He moved to the sink and washed the blood from his hands as he watched Mehmet slip into unconsciousness and die. He locked the door and left.

  He was at the airport and leaving the country three hours later. He was also a lot richer as ISIS transferred the money for the hit into his account. A win, win situation he thought as he ate the somewhat tasteless meal served to him on board the plane.

  Chapter 36

  The sea calm reflected the light with such intensity from the surface of the Gulf’s waters that it dazzled. Points of silvery light danced on the almost totally still sea only stirring here and there with the small puffs of the breeze. The Nord Viking was preparing to sail. From the bridge the Captain and crew could make out the bow and stern in the distance. The surface of the water was far below them. The size of the tanker was awe inspiring. The power of the engines astronomic and the weight of the vessel with its cargo was mind blowing. All figures so large that they were hard to envisage or truly take in.

  Despite the fact that it was truly a Leviathan of the seas it was easier to sail than a little dingy used for weekend jaunts on a lake. The wheel house did not have a wheel. The bridge would be more a home to a computer gamer or a city forex trader than an old school sailor. The computers were there constantly checking the operation of the vessel, its health, navigating and responding to the small movements of a joystick. The system, if on an aircraft would be called “fly by wire,” this was however “sail by wire.” Its aim was to minimise the risk of human error and avoid the disastrous consequences of a major oil spill.

  The captain and crew had been briefed on the possible terrorist threat. It hardly seemed possible and the captain was totally unconvinced as to its credibility. Naturally if ISIS had access to a warship the threat would be possible to prosecute but one thing was certain they did not have a navy. Even if they did it would have to be a pretty sophisticated one to overcome HMS Defender which was providing their escort.

  The tanker was designed as are all ships to make it very difficult to sink. It was effectively double hulled and was sectioned into water tight compartments. Even if the hull was breached it would still remain afloat and the oil would be contained. Of course collisions occur all the time with ships and jetties. Captains or pilots get it wrong and bash into the quayside and while the damage to the jetty and vessel can be expensive it rarely causes any risk to a ship. The Nord Viking was, despite its immensity very manoeuvrable. Its system of thrusters allowed it to move not only forward but sideways and any combination in between. No, the captain could not envisage this ship being sunk.

  There was always the danger of a boarding and bombs being brought aboard. The Somalis had had past successes in boarding tankers. However that was before when the security personnel were unarmed and only had basic equipment like water cannon to repel potential boarders.

  While the captain dealt with pile of paper work needed before they could put to sea a jeep pulled up quayside. It carried five individuals who were the sort of individuals you would wish to avoid if you were contemplating getting into a fight. They were led by ex sergeant Bootle, ex commando and now security consultant. The other four were all former military and naval personnel. Their backgrounds ranged from the Special Boat Service to the Marines, all professional and all highly trained. Fully kitted and with modern weapons they were a formidable efficient and fully trained tactical unit that could easily be sent in to deal with any situation, A lightly armed grouped of Somali pirates would find it neigh impossible to out fight or out manoeuvre this group of men. The vessels owners were doing their best to protect their investment.

  The security force boarded the ship and having stowed their gear, they began surveying the ship. They had studied the vessel’s plans prior to boarding and now did a physical exploration. Bootle was granted permission to enter the bridge and he settled down with the Captain to discuss their response to a potential armed boarding. The security force had been thorough and Bootle was clear and concise in his instructions to the Captain. He finished by saying, “In essence we need you and the crew to keep well out of the way if it kicks off. The last thing you or we need is anyone getting in the line of fire. Gather the crew on the bridge and lock the ship down. We can defend and defeat a small army if they attempt a boarding.”

  Formalities cleared the Nord Viking finally put to sea.

  The HMS Defender was lying to the south and waiting for the tanker to make headway in to the Persian Gulf. She would effectively scout ahead of the Nord Viking and await her arrival in the Hormuz Strait. She would then shepherd the tanker through and then return to routine patrol.

  “Nice weather,” said the First Officer

  “It is indeed,” replied the Captain Jones. They were taking a stroll on deck and enjoying the morning air. A flock of gulls had gathered above them sensing that there may be a meal for them as the chefs cleared the remains of breakfast. “See that this gull shit is cleared up, will you?”

  “It looks like it is going to be a scorcher again today,” continued Jones. Even for the Gulf it was hot and set to get hotter.

  They wandered into the bridge. “The Nord Viking has set sail, Captain.”

  “About time, let’s go and take a look. Get her underway,” said Jones.

  After an hours sailing they saw the tanker. “Well she is easy enough to spot, I doubt if even the worst sailor could miss that.” HMS Defender sailed ahead and to the east of the tanker as they made their stately procession towards the Strait.

  Further down the western seaboard just round the point at Kumzar in Dubai the Golden Crescent also known to the Defender’s crew as the SS Rust Bucket lay anchored. HMS Defender had seen her as she sailed north but familiarity breeds contempt and they had totally ignored her presence assuming she was up to her usual no good, bit of smuggling. There had been a few modifications made to the vessel recently. A gantry and three small hoist type cranes had been added to the deck. The design was such that cargo from the hold could be lifted and lowered overboard into the sea. A platform had been installed at water level , accessed by rope ladders to allow easy boarding onto a smaller boat or dingy.

  On the bridge the Captain looked on the radar. There were, of course, many boats of all shapes and sizes. He had however become pretty good at tracking the Defender in order to avoid it during the course of their smuggling activities and it wasn’t going to be too hard to spot the monster tanker when she arrived. All was ready. All they had to do was wait.

  The Defender was a few nautical miles ahead of the Nord Viking as they entered the Hormuz Strait. They were on full alert. There was a lot of shipping activity most of which they identified and discounted as a threat

  “This looks like a bit of a waste of time.”

  “Just do your job Lieutenant,” said the Officer of the watch.

  The Captain took control of the bridge, “Anything?”

  “No nothing, SS Rust Bucket is still moored just off the point. It appears to be broken down or up to no good, but not of interest at the moment.”

  The Nord Viking began its passage through the straight and passed in front of the Rust bucket obscuring her from view. At that point the rigid hulled inflatable boats began their assault. There were forty of them lowered from the deck of the Rust Bucket and manned with two Jihadis per dingy. They appeared, like a swarm of beetles racing across a dung pile, in the binoculars of the watchers on HMS Defender.

  “What they hell is that?” pointed Jones as he saw the mass of black dots stream into view heading at high speed for the tanker. These types of boat were popular with Special Forces all over the world. They, as the name implied, had a rigid glass fibre hull surrounded by an inflatable collar, RHIBs for short. They were, light, fast and highly manoeuvrable and ideal as assault craft.

  About thirty of the RHIBs headed after the Tanker and fifteen or sixt
een were on a direct course to HMS Defender, They were closing at a speed of nearly sixty miles an hour. The two men in each boat were bouncing across the waves clinging on as best they could. The Defender compliment ran to their stations and began firing at the oncoming boats. The boats darted from side to side, weaving as they approached. The bigger guns were not designed for this and the light and medium machine guns were best suited to the task, spraying a line of continuous fire at the massed horde of boats flying towards them.

  “Get us up to full speed. We need to get between the Nord Viking and the boats heading for them.” The sheer number of dinghies had shocked him. He feared that they could actually manage to board the Tanker. HMS defender herself was under threat. Hand held rocket propelled grenades, RPGs, were being fired at them as well as machine gun fire.

  Suddenly they slowed to a crawl. “Shit,” said Jones. He didn’t need to be told what had happened. The engines had overheated. The Rolls Royce engines just could not cope with the heat in the Gulf. The newspapers had been full of the story. HMS Defender became a bystander, The Jihadis soon realised that they were going nowhere and abandoned the diversionary assault and headed of to join the attack on the Tanker.

  Chapter 37

  Sergeant Bootle was on the deck of the Nord Viking. Even he was surprised at the force heading towards them. Initially around thirty dinghies were launched towards them at high speed and now more were coming their way, having been released into the fray with the breakdown of HMS Defender. A far as he could tell the Destroyer had managed to take out about five of the boats.

  He organised his men and began firing onto the oncoming armada. The tanker was travelling at about fifteen knots and the attackers were buzzing around at nearly four times that speed, therefore the chances of them actually hitting anything were pretty remote.