by Albert Able
Men were running along the side deck. A lone figure on the quay unhooked the shorelines, which were pulled quickly on board.
“Any idea where she’s heading?” Alex asked, speaking for the first time.
“Research in the China Sea was all they said.” The man shook his head. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be so choosey” he sighed as he watched the boat manoeuvring out of the harbour.
“Diving?” Alex asked simply.
“That’s what I assumed but when I asked what equipment they had on board, they suddenly shut me up, saying they had enough divers now and only wanted more deckhands. By then I was too suspicious and said no.”
“Out of interest,” Alex encouraged the man, “did you notice what equipment they have on board, other than the two underwater vehicles on deck?”
“That’s what puzzled me, you see. I’ve been diving all over the place and the first thing any dive operation usually claims to woo the best divers is that they have all the latest gadgets or gas air mixers, you know the sort of thing, and especially a luxury recompression kit. But these guys claimed nothing of the sort. Strange, very strange,” he mused.
“So you’re a diver?” Alex asked. “That could be useful - you see we have a dive team working out in the bay at this moment and could use an extra pair of hands. This job will be more like support and security. Interested?”
The man looked at Alex.
“Security - what does that mean exactly?”
“Let’s put it this way, we are a legitimate diving operation working on a wreck out in the bay. I am convinced that those people are part of a Japanese crime syndicate who are going to try to interfere with our operation.”
The man raised his shoulders.
“Doesn’t sound like such a big deal to me.”
“There’s more I’m afraid. We also think that there are some armed terrorists from the South who also want to muscle in on our operation.” The man’s expression had not changed. He’d make a good poker player, Alex thought fleetingly. “You still want in?”
“So just what are you diving for that makes you the good guys?” the man asked.
Alex smiled.
“Gold, my friend, gold!”
“I should have known.” The man shook his head in disbelief. “Well at least you’re being honest about it,” he laughed as his mood suddenly changed. “You may know different to all the others but many fortunes have been wasted looking for gold out there.”
“That is our risk - your deal is a small retainer and a share if we find anything.”
“I can’t lose then can I!” he smiled again. “In that case count me in. By the way name’s Maurice - my friends call me Mo.” The man held out his hand.
That was when Dick remembered where he’d met Mo before. He was shipped aboard the trawler with a team of divers to try to save their net when they hooked into an old wreck in about one hundred metres of water. The trawls are almost one kilometre long and cost a fortune. The divers did several plunge dives to see if the net could be saved but in the end were unable to help. Mo had been one of the divers.
“OK Mo we start with a bit of intelligence work,” Alex instructed as they all strolled casually along the quay. “In the next bay there are three powerboats with a mixed crew of divers and armed men. I want to try to find out what they’re up to. They’ve seen Dick here so it would be too dangerous for him to go back. Do you fancy making a start?”
“OK,” Mo grinned, “but when you said security work, I didn’t realise you meant the James Bond stuff.” He grinned happily. “Give me an hour and I’ll see you back at your boat.”
Forty-five minutes later he was sitting on the boat drinking a beer out of the bottle.
“You were right - they’re from the south, a surly bunch too, almost nothing to say for themselves. There are several divers amongst them. The others are probably some kind of religious fanatics; a dangerous looking outfit I can tell you.” He sipped his beer. “They’ve three thirsty looking powerboats, a bit like this but more streamlined. I bet they can go!”
Dick looked upset.
“They’ll have to go some to match this little beauty.” He affectionately stroked and patted the console.
“I sure hope so.” Mo shook his head. “I’m beginning to wonder what I’ve got myself into now,” he said with genuine feeling.
“Don’t worry my friend.” Alex leaned over and thumped him on the shoulder. “The good guy’s win. I’ve seen the movie!”
w
The next shift of divers settled on the bottom; the high-pressure suction hose was lowered with them. They were tense as John eased himself carefully into the jagged hole. As well as the lamps attached to their pressure helmets they had a brace of lights on a flexible cable. The silt rose in an impenetrable cloud as he stepped onto the bottom. The suction hose was inserted to pull gently at the cloudy water. As it cleared, John found that he was standing about two metres from a half-open bulkhead door. He took a step towards it and another cloud of silt filled his vision. Feeling his way forward, he reached the door. He pushed hopefully but unsurprisingly it would not move. Gradually the water cleared again.
“I’ve found a door but I’m going to need the hydraulic jack to push it back,” he said, speaking into his helmet.
The second diver had just dropped into the hole. The other two were to remain on the outside.
“I’ll get it,” Number Four replied and made his way half walking, half swimming back to the bell.
John positioned the jack while number two diver pumped the lever. Amazingly, the door started to move almost immediately. As soon as the gap was wide enough, they waited once again for the silt to clear and then John eased through the gap. He stopped dead as the light of his helmet lamp played over the contents of the compartment, recognising at once the ten or twelve millimetre shells sitting in their customised racks; in the same glance he took in the dozens of crates stacked beneath them.
The sudden thrill made him suck greedily at the artificial air in his helmet; pausing briefly, he controlled himself then, with the warning about delicate munitions ringing clearly in his head, called out calmly, “Steady boys - this place is full of munitions.”
Number two diver was close behind him.
“Here.”
John made enough space for him to squeeze in.
“My God,” Number Two exclaimed. “There must be hundreds of ’em. I wonder what else they have in here.” He moved forward cautiously.
“Be bloody careful boys!” Big J’s warning voice sounded in their helmets.
Big J sat in the control room staring at the coloured screens. Like a mother hen, he spent every shift monitoring his divers.
“I suggest you switch on your camera now,” he gently reminded John. The picture panned across the racked shells then moved down towards the boxes underneath.
“Be very careful boys - those boxes may contain other nasties.” He hadn’t wanted to say it but they looked exactly like the grenade boxes he’d seen in Vietnam.
Number two leaned down and gently waved his hand in front of the first case; the silt flew in a cloud. He stopped and waited, then did it again. After three or four goes the front edge of the case was cleared. It was made of wood with its lid clearly nailed down; amazingly it still appeared to be in good condition.
“What do you think?” he asked.
It was Big J who replied.
“I think we need to know what’s in that box boys.”
He tried to hide his own excitement. Suddenly he was no longer thinking of grenades but could it be what they were all hoping for?
“I suggest you use a small lever and carefully lift the top of that first box,” he ordered without evident emotion.
“At your command oh master,” John responded lightly.
Because of the buoyancy exerted on the body underwater, it is much more difficult for a diver to exert pressure on objects.
Number Two diver tried to move the first box first but it
was too heavy
“OK, let’s do it the old fashioned way.”
He pulled the lever from his belt kit, held it against the box and gave it a gentle push. Nothing happened.
“Here, try this.” John passed him a heavy wrench.
The diver tapped the lever gently, then a bit harder, until suddenly the rotting wood imploded into a cloud of decayed fragments. The bar skidded to a halt on the solid contents. They waited as usual for the silt to clear. The lever had gouged along the surface of the contents, creating a golden coloured scar, which sparkled in the artificial light.
The realisation of the find left them all momentarily speechless.
“My God,” Big J’s voice booming down the microphone broke the silence, “we’ve bloody well found it!”
f
The captain of the chartered dive vessel answered the satellite telephone. He listened briefly than passed the instrument to the oriental man standing next to him.
“It’s for you.”
“Yes, yes,” the oriental man, speaking in English, repeated into the instrument. “Excellent. You will now give the coordinates to the captain.” He passed the telephone back. “You will now be given our next position, so please make a careful note but do not alter course until I tell you.”
The captain took the telephone and wrote down the latitude and longitude of the waypoint.
The oriental man left the bridge and joined his colleagues in the saloon.
“They’ve found it,” he announced triumphantly in Japanese. “So now we give them a couple of days or so to bring it all to the surface, then we move in. We might just as well let them do the hard work eh!”
His normally severe expression cracked into a rare smile.
w
Dick ferried Alex and Mo back to the tug, promising to return the following day with the shopping list of supplies.
“While you’re at it Dick, if you can find a couple more men as tough as Mo here, it would be very helpful,” Alex asked as the passengers stepped aboard the tug.
Dick smiled knowingly.
“It’s easy to find men who will sign on to chase Yamashta gold but not so easy to find one who will fight for it!” He cast off. “Leave it to me - I think I know someone.”
They gathered in the hold where the pressure room was also housed. Alex had called a council of war, as he described it to the assembled crew from both ships.
“I asked you here so I can talk to the saturated divers at the same time.” He waved at the face in a tiny round window. “Can you hear me John?”
“That’s affirmative,” John replied over the intercom. A hand also appeared at the window signalling yes.
“Good. First of all, congratulations on your efforts down there earlier.” He saluted the faces peering out through the other tiny pressurised windows. They also gave the divers’ OK signal in return. “Finding this gold has been a near miracle in itself but we still have to get it to the surface and keep it safe until we finish up out here. Then gentlemen, we still have to get it to Singapore and sell it. Any questions so far?”
He looked around at the silent eager faces. “OK, now I’m sure you all know by now that there other parties in these parts who would also like to get their hands on our treasure. Dick and I have already found strong evidence that certain people know exactly where we are but hopefully do not yet know that we have actually found the submarine and the gold.”
Still his audience remained silent.
“I’m setting up a security system and hopefully bringing some more men aboard to act as guards. Mo here is our first volunteer.” He gestured in Mo’s direction. “I hope I’m worrying unnecessarily but I’m not going to take any chances, so everyone stays onboard and no mobile calls please. We must stay completely contained and secure for as long as possible.”
He looked around again.
“Well I guess that’s about it for the moment any questions?”
“How much gold is there down there?” the little cook croaked.
His question was the one thing everyone else on board really wanted to know. For the moment they were not the least bit interested in any potential danger.
“We don’t know yet Cookie,” Big J soothed him. “But we think there’s enough to go round.”
They all cheered.
Big J raised his hand to calm them down.
“OK, OK boys. Now it’s time for those not on shift to get some shut-eye. We’re going to have a busy day tomorrow.”
“Don’t get excited too soon,” Oscar warned, though few of the elated crew paid attention as they drifted away. “I know this man Alex, he knows what he’s talking about and if he says ‘look out’ then he means it!”
Oscar looked at Marion, squeezed her hand and led her to their cabin. They lay in their bunk but sleep eluded them so they chatted about the divers and their difficulties, then speculated about the others interested in the gold and what they would be able do to take it away from them. Eventually Marion rolled onto her side and placed her hand gently on the side of Oscar’s face.
“In some ways I wish we had never heard of this gold; the only good to come out of it so far has been bringing us together.” She snuggled into his shoulder.
“Yes - I wonder just how many more lives it is going to claim.” He half turned and kissed her. “But right now I think we should be taking advantage of the good it has done for us.”
She returned the kiss by gently nibbling his ear; her free hand ran across his chest then gradually further down, teasing his growing manhood.
“The only gold I want to think about now are the five gold stars you could award me for making this big fellow happy.” She held onto the fully-grown organ.
“I see, so let the test begin.” He lay on his back and placed his hands behind his head on the pillow. “How do you want to score points, out of ten?”
She rolled on top of him.
“Make it what you like - if you have time to count, I will have failed.”
He wrapped his arms around her soft warm body and pulled her down so she rested on top of him.
“I love you,” was all he said.
f
Alex was up early. Hans had called twice in the night - the first time to report another mobile call from one of the ships, he couldn’t be sure which one now that they were moored together but the call was to the same number in Manila, which he now knew was the home of a prominent lawyer. The second call from Hans was to relay a message from the Boss. Apparently MI6 had a file on the lawyer. It had not come to light until someone looked into some old file on ex-President Marcos. It seemed that the lawyer in question had assisted the former Philippine Dictator by channelling some assets to Switzerland after the tyrant took his leave of the country.
“Seems this lawyer is a pretty smart cookie; apparently there was insufficient evidence against him personally so no charges could be made. The Boss thinks he probably has Syndicate connections.”
“Well thanks Hans. Any more good news?”
“I certainly have and you’re going to love this. I managed to intercept two satellite calls from the other dive ship with your Japanese friends aboard. They are definitely after you - they reported to someone in Tokyo in the first call and then accepted a call from this same lawyer’s number. He supplied them with the details of your location. Then the Jap gave him instructions to stand by until you have all the gold on board. Seems they are planning some kind of takeover. The good news is that they seem to be confident that you will recover it all for them!” Hans paused. “Strange, I’ve never seen this generous side of you!” he added in a lighter tone.
“Yeah well, it just goes to show that you don’t recognise generosity when you see it! Anyway thanks and stay in touch,” Alex finished more seriously.
Dick returned early that morning and once Alex had secured the mooring lines he climbed on board.
“I’ve brought the cavalry!” he announced cheerfully.
Alex could see that there
were three additional people on board. One he recognised as Sing the diver who had been hospitalised in Manila, the other was Philip, Dick’s friend, who had miraculously organised the secret clinic. The third man was shorter with a slightly darker complexion. His slightly bandy legs carried a rather bulky body. The man seemed to sport a permanent grin.
Alex greeted the two familiar faces.
“Shouldn’t you be in hospital?” He shook Sing’s hand firmly.
“Just a scratch! I’m fine now thank you.” He bowed politely.
Dick introduced the next man.
“This is Philip - you remember him?”
“I certainly do - the Jeepnee man eh?” Alex shook the outstretched hand.
Philip grinned happily.
“Seems as though you need my services again?”
“We certainly do,” he replied enthusiastically and turned to the new face. “And who have we here?”
“This is Pedro, Pedro the fisherman - a fisherman without a boat at the moment.” Dick tried to look saddened.
“Yes that’s me. He doesn’t want to say it but I put my boat on the rocks, so she’s kaput and here I am,” he smiled happily.
At that moment Mo appeared.
“Hi Pedro, what are you doing here?” he greeted the little man.
“Mo! Dickie said you were here and like you my friend I come to chase bad guys and make money. Eh?” Pedro rubbed his fingers together, the smile even wider.
Alex surveyed his troops.
“I don’t know what Dick has told you but I’ll brief you all with the truth shortly” he said and led the way up to the accommodation. Let’s hope they’re still smiling when they know what the odds are, he thought to himself.
10
Franco Ebola sat in a comfortable chair facing the lawyer. The meeting was not going to the lawyer’s liking. In the first instance he definitely did not want this known underworld character to be seen in his office; neither did he like the crude threatening tone of the conversation. Ebola was insisting on “up front” payment for his services. The fact that the leader of the terrorist cell had also paid him did not disturb Ebola’s conscience one little bit. Though he had wondered vaguely just where these religious fanatics, who were supposed to be opposed to all material things, actually found so much cash but he didn’t ponder too long - lining his own pockets was his sole ambition.
