Black Horn (A Creasy novel Book 4)

by A. J. Quinnell

  Creasy’s voice: ‘Move to one nautical mile from the Hebe Haven Bay to the North, and if any vessel comes out, track it on your radar. Have your Oppo ready with a dinghy to pick me up at map reference B/14.’

  The crisp English voice snapped back: ‘Understood.’

  Jens Jensen’s voice echoed around Inspector Lau’s office. He was obviously reading from his computer screen. ‘The converted junk, Black Swan, is twenty metres overall and twelve metres on the beam. She only draws two metres . . . the significant thing is that her poop deck is three and a half metres above water-level. She has twin G. M. one hundred and fifty HP diesels, which give a maximum speed of twelve knots. Her normal crew is four.’

  The curt, English voice came straight back: ‘I copy.’

  Next, Creasy’s voice came through the speaker: ‘Listen, SBS. I need a way to get on to that junk.’

  Inspector Lau and his constable were looking at the speaker, mesmerised. They heard the English voice say with light-hearted enthusiasm: ‘I worked that out five minutes ago.’

  Then there was another voice on the speaker. It was Eric Laparte talking to Creasy: ‘I was too late. A back junk is just moving off its moorings. It’s heading for the entrance of the bay.’

  Creasy’s voice came, asking: ‘Are we copied at sea?’

  The crisp, English voice came through the speaker: ‘You’re copied at sea. We are two nautical miles from the entrance to Hebe Haven. We’ll pick up that junk the moment it leaves the shore, and track it from a distance of one nautical mile.’

  Creasy’s voice: ‘Are you showing navigational lights?’

  The English voice sounded pained: ‘Are you joking?’

  Chapter 56

  Lucy Kwok lay on the vast bed in the state room and listened to the throbbing of the engines.

  She had literally been kicked into the cabin. Both her wrists and her ankles were manacled with very modern handcuffs, and her lips were bleeding from a back-handed smack in the mouth from one of the 14K fighters. She felt no pain, only humiliation and guilt. She lay on the bare mattress of the bed and thought of the risks that were being taken by the people trying to help her. Guilt built up like a guillotine above her head. She felt the movement of the boat as it passed out into the open sea. She brought her fear and that guilt under control and made a resolve that, no matter what, she would not give way to any threats, or any abuse, or any pain.

  Chapter 57

  Inspector Lau looked at the two silent loudspeakers. He glanced at his constable and then at his watch. The hour hand was approaching midnight.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked the constable.

  The constable leaned back in his chair, away from the computer screen. He liked Inspector Lau. The man always involved him and always asked his opinion. The constable felt as though he was part of a team and not just a subordinate. He said, ‘The 14K know what’s coming. They know that Mrs Manners in the Peninsula Hotel is the paymaster. It’s logical that they’ll negotiate with her. They look on the mercenaries she has employed in the same way as they regard their own fighters. They will not believe that those mercenaries have a mind of their own.’ He tapped the screen of his computer. ‘But we know differently. Mrs Manners has fired a bullet at them and they cannot realise that it will never be stopped.’ He pointed up at one of the loudspeakers, ‘I listened to the conversation between Creasy and his team. I heard their voices. They are all bullets. They have all been fired.’

  Inspector Lau said, ‘I think that sometime soon you’ll become a sergeant, and shortly after a Master Sergeant . . . your work during these past two days has been exceptional. What do you think will happen next?’

  The constable reflected for a moment and then said, ‘You already know.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  The constable said, ‘Tommy Mo sits in his villa in Sai Kung, knowing that he holds an ace in his sleeve. Within the hour, one of his people will contact Mrs Manners and tell her that, unless she pulls off her mercenaries, he will deliver the head of Lucy Kwok Ling Fong on a silver platter to her suite in the Peninsula Hotel.’

  ‘And if she agrees?’

  ‘If she agrees, Tommy Mo, being the man he is, will scent an advantage and, being a Triad . . . and Chinese, he will press for a bonus.’

  Inspector Lau nodded in satisfaction.

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Some millions . . . in US dollars.’

  ‘So what do I do?’

  ‘You need to listen to those negotiations.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘You have to tap in to the switchboard of the Peninsula Hotel.’

  ‘How do I do that?’

  The constable said, ‘Inspector, you know exactly how you do that. You have to get a court order, authorising the Hong Kong telephone company to tap in to the switchboard of the Peninsula Hotel.’

  Inspector Lau glanced at his watch. It was 12:30 a.m.

  ‘You realise what I have to do to get that court order?’

  Yet again, the constable smiled.

  ‘You have to get our beloved Commissioner out of bed and, in turn, he has to get the Government Prosecutor out of bed . . . who in turn has to get the on-duty judge out of bed, who, we know, has a phone and fax at his home. And then, under the new regulations, he must fax the senior duty-policeman, who at this time is Chief Superintendent George Ellis, authorising him to allow a phone-tap on the required lines.’

  Inspector Lau sighed. ‘Thank you for reminding me.’ He looked at the phone on his desk. ‘The Commissioner will not be pleased.’

  The constable stood up, stretched and said, ‘Inspector, you make your phone-call and I’ll set up the technology and a third speaker.’

  Inspector Lau studied the phone in front of him. As he tried to make a decision, he heard the crisp English voice coming from the loudspeaker: ‘I have a radar reading and the profile fits the vessel under surveillance. It’s heading for the Ninepins.’

  With another sigh, Inspector Lau reached for the phone.

  Chapter 58

  ‘It’s because you’re in love with her,’ Guido said.

  ‘That has nothing to do with it,’ Creasy answered angrily.

  It was a very rare occasion; the two close friends were arguing. They were in the darkened garden of the safehouse, redistributing their team in the light of events. Creasy said that he would go alone to meet up with Tony Cope and Damon Broad on the MV Tempest and then, together with Tony Cope, would make an assault on the Black Swan.

  Guido was arguing that either himself or another member of the team should accompany Creasy. It had been decided that the attempt to rescue Lucy Kwok would take place just before dawn and, if successful, the attack on the 14K villa in Sai Kung would follow almost immediately.

  Creasy had decided that he would go alone to the launch, and that Guido and Do Huang would hijack the rubbish truck, and the other two teams would remain unchanged. But Guido knew Creasy’s mind as well as his own. He knew, and all the others knew, that Lucy was in love with Creasy and that maybe her love was reciprocated. Consequently, Creasy did not want anyone to think that he was favouring her.

  Guido’s voice hardened. ‘Creasy, you have to lead the team on the villa assault. It’s your team, not mine. Lucy has to be a secondary consideration. I’ll do everything I can to get her out. But it has to be me. I know how you feel — but it has to be me.’

  In the dim light, Creasy looked into his friend’s eyes, and knew that he was right.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But don’t forget that Tony Cope’s an ex-Special Boat Serviceman. He’s more of an expert at this sort of thing than any of us.’

  They turned back into the house. The others were all asleep upstairs, or pretending to be. He had only woken Guido when the news had come through about Lucy’s abduction. There was no point in disturbing the others until nearer the time. He glanced at his watch and wondered if, and when, Tommy Mo would be in touch with Gloria. If she had heard nothing by 2 a.m., then Guido w
ould move off and meet Damon Broad and be ferried out to the Tempest. Creasy would then assemble the rest of the team at 4 a.m., and head out to Sai Kung.

  Guido went into the kitchen and returned with a pot of coffee and two cups. Then he produced a packet of cards, and the two old friends did what they had done so often before. They played gin-rummy and drank coffee while they waited.

  Chapter 59

  The Black Swan belied its name. With its wide beam and huge stern, it looked nothing except cumbersome. It was anchored in among the small group of Ninepin Islands, about two miles from the South-East tip of the New Territories.

  Two men in black clothing patrolled the decks, submachine-guns slung over their shoulders. Below, in the saloon, five other men were drinking whisky. The eighth man was in the back cabin, abusing Lucy Kwok Ling Fong.

  As soon as they had left Hebe Haven, the men had stripped her and tied her wrists and ankles to the large four-poster. The others had left, leaving just the leader, who Lucy had guessed to be a Chui Chau from the way he spoke Cantonese and from the dark complexion of his skin. She also guessed that he would be in his mid-fifties and a senior fighter for the 14K.

  He looked down at her naked body and said, ‘This can take as long as you wish. You will tell me everything about the American woman and the people she has hired. How many they are, their names, what weapons they have and what they plan to do.’

  She had looked up into his small cruel eyes and realised he could well be the leader of the fighters who had killed her family. Her terror turned to rage and the words hissed out of her, in the most traditional and deepest insult a Chinese woman can hurl at a Chinese man.

  ‘I wouldn’t give you the steam off my piss!’

  As she spoke, her head craned up, and she spat in his face.

  He jumped backwards. She could not see his eyes, because he was wiping her spit from his face with the back of his hand, but when he had lowered his hand, she had seen the venom flowing out of them. He had stood very still for almost a minute, just looking at her. Then he went to a cupboard and returned with a short length of rubber hosepipe.

  ‘My orders,’ he had said, ‘are to get information from you, but without leaving a mark on your body. I don’t know why my boss is being so soft-hearted, but I promise you, I can give you a mountain of pain, without leaving a mark.’

  It had continued for an hour. He knew exactly how to use the rubber hose. One by one, her nerve endings screamed out with pain but within half an hour, she had stopped screaming and resolved not to make a single sound, no matter what.

  After the hour, he had stood back and smiled at her ravaged face.

  ‘You’re brave, Kwok Ling Fong. You can accept much pain.’ He looked at his watch and she guessed that he had a time-scale. He had a sneering smile on his face.

  ‘You are brave in your body, but we’ll now find out how brave you are in your mind and your dignity. If you don’t give me the information I want, now, I’ll call one of my men in and he’ll rape you. He will not be gentle. If, after that, you refuse to talk, I’ll call the next man in, and he’ll do the same, and it will continue until you talk. We are eight men on this boat . . . when the last one finishes, the first one will be ready to begin again. None of us will be gentle . . . you will be raped in every orifice of your body.’

  She tried to spit at him again, but her mouth was dry. He laughed and went to the cabin door, opened it and called a name. A man came in and stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at her naked body. She listened as the leader gave his instructions and saw the lust creep into the man’s eyes as he reached to unbuckle his belt.

  Chapter 60

  The phone-call came at 2.45 a.m. and, apart from reaching Gloria at the Peninsula Hotel, it also came through the newly-installed third loudspeaker in Inspector Lau’s office. The voice was surprisingly educated; the English, perfect. The constable and Inspector Lau looked at each other in surprise. The message also contained no obvious threat.

  The conversation opened: ‘Mrs Manners, I’m very sorry to disturb you at such an hour, but it happens that I very recently met a young Chinese lady of your acquaintance.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name is not important. It’s just that I felt that you may wish to help her.’

  ‘Of course, you’re talking about Lucy Kwok. Where is she?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t really catch her name but she did tell me that you were investing rather a lot of money in Hong Kong with some of your associates. It would definitely help her if you stopped investing that money with those associates and sent them packing.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m acting on behalf of some business associates. They feel that if you immediately drop your present project and invest five million US dollars with them . . . then the young lady I mentioned will be much happier than she is now.’

  ‘This is obviously a ransom demand.’

  ‘Certainly not, Mrs Manners. It is simply a suggestion to make a rather urgent alternative investment, which will be reflected in the condition that your young friend finds herself in at the moment, I’m afraid the time-frame is very small. We need your answer within four hours, and the investment will have to be made by noon today.’

  ‘You expect me to find five million bucks within eight hours?’

  ‘We have every confidence in your ability to do so. You’ll be contacted this morning. Please give this proposal your very careful consideration.’ The line went dead.

  In the hotel suite, Gloria had been writing down the conversation. She had followed Creasy’s instructions exactly. She handed the notepad to Jens, who was standing beside her with Rene. The Dane picked up his mobile phone, dialled Creasy’s number and read him the transcript.

  Across the harbour, Inspector Lau had also jotted down the conversation, even though it was being automatically recorded. He looked up at the constable and said, ‘That was the voice of a lawyer. He’s Chinese, but educated in England . . . the accent is obvious. I’ll track that bastard down, even though he never made an open threat in the conversation.’

  ‘But it was obvious,’ the constable said. ‘Either five million dollars by tomorrow and the mercenaries sent away, or Lucy Kwok Ling Fong loses her head.’

  The Inspector lifted a hand for silence. Voices were coming through one of the other speakers. It was Jens Jensen, speaking to Creasy and relaying the conversation. Then Creasy was talking to Gloria and telling her that in four hours’ time, she must agree to their demands and ask for details of how the money was to be delivered. By noon that day, it would be over, one way or another. She should demand proof that Lucy was alive and unharmed. Without that proof, she would not pay the money.

  ‘Should I have the money transferred?’ she asked.

  ‘Can you do it in such a short time?’

  ‘Yes, I can.’

  ‘Then do it,’ Creasy said, ‘Just in case. But I think in the next five hours Lucy will either be rescued or dead.’

  There was a silence from the speaker and then Gloria’s voice came again: ‘Creasy. Maybe I should go along with them. Pay the money and call this whole thing off . . . The only thing that matters now is to save Lucy’s life.’

  Creasy’s voice came out of the speaker in a flat monotone: ‘Mrs Manners. They’ll kill her anyway. It’s out of your hands now. Just follow my instructions. Now pass me to Rene.’

  Another pause, and then Creasy was giving Rene instructions. Until further notice, he was not to open the door of the suite to anybody. Rene and Jens were to cover the door, with submachine-guns from different defended positions.

  Rene’s voice said: ‘Don’t worry on this end, Creasy. Good luck to you and the guys.’ Then the connection was broken.

  The constable turned from his computer screen to Inspector Lau and said, ‘It’s going to be an interesting morning.’

  Chapter 61

  It was just after three o’clock in the morning when the door opened to I
nspector Lau’s office. It was the Commissioner of Police.

  Inspector Lau immediately stood up to attention and so did the constable. The Hong Kong Police is a very disciplined force. The Commissioner was dressed in very casual clothes: a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and a denim jacket. He glanced around the room and his eyes alighted on the three loudspeakers on the wall. He was about to ask a question, when voices came out of one of the loudspeakers.

  It was Guido, talking to Tony Cope: ‘Rendezvous. Three-thirty hours at B/14. Confirmed.’

  ‘I copy.’

  The Commissioner looked at Inspector Lau, who decided to go on to the attack.

  ‘What are you doing here, Sir? At this time of the night?’ The Commissioner glanced at the constable and then back at the Inspector. He said, ‘That’s a brilliant question. You ring me up in the middle of the night to arrange a phone-tap on the Peninsula Hotel, and tell me in your usual succinct way to have a good night’s sleep . . . How the hell can I sleep? I came to see what’s happening. Not to be a boss . . . and not to interfere. But my guts tell me that something is happening tonight and I want to witness it.’ He gestured at the row of loudspeakers. ‘And I guess, to listen. Who set that up?’

  Inspector Lau was still standing. He gestured at the constable and said, ‘Constable Wang Mung Ho. He’s been a computer buff from the moment he left his mother’s womb.’ He pointed at the right-hand speaker. ‘We are patched into Creasy’s mercenary team on their mobile phones on that speaker.’ He pointed at the middle loudspeaker. ‘That carries our own police telecommunications.’ He pointed at the left-hand speaker. ‘That carries any phone-call made to or from the Presidential Suite of the Peninsula Hotel.’ He pointed at the computer screen in front of the Constable and said, ‘Constable Wang has, over the last two days, been able to set up graphs on his computer to identify voices and also to identify the origins of transmissions.’