The Jason Green series Box Set

by Gordon Wallis

  “Hello Mr Jason, everything is ready for you.”

  “That's good.” We drove down the main waterfront road past the House of Wonders and the old dispensary. The streets were mostly deserted by that time as were the waters of the harbour. We passed the port building and eventually arrived at the secluded Baya Beach. Hassan parked near the big banyan tree as we had before.

  “I will show you how to operate the boat Mr Jason “ he said as we both got out of the car. He was clearly not interested in what I was doing and I couldn’t blame him after what we had both been through the last time we had met.

  We walked down the sand towards the sea where we found a small, four person boat fitted with a 15 HP Yamaha motor. The dented aluminium hull of the boat looked ancient but the motor seemed fairly new. “It is a pull start, Mr Jason, and there is a full tank of fuel on board.” said Hassan.

  “That's fine Hassan,” I said, “are you going to wait here for me?”

  “Yes I will wait here. I will flash my lights every five minutes so you will see where to come back.” I thanked him and climbed aboard the battered vessel. Hassan gave the boat a shove and it floated slowly away from the beach. The motor was still warm and it fired on the first pull of the starter rope. I sat at the rear with the steering arm and the controls in my right hand. The motor was surprisingly fast and I sped off into the night at a good speed. My destination was clear ahead of me in the moonlight. The dark shape of the star of Guangzhou had shifted in the breeze and I saw its full length side on as I travelled. Slowly its shape grew larger and larger until ten minutes later I dropped the revs and cruised slowly alongside its rusted hull. The light of the moon was obscured by the ship so I pulled the night vision goggles over my head and switched them on. Up ahead of me was the swinging gangway that I had seen earlier. It hovered seven feet above the surface of the water and it creaked and groaned as it scraped against the hull. I cut the motor when I was twenty metres away and allowed the boat to drift closer until I was able to move to the front and grab it. In the green light of the goggles I could see it had been damaged by the sea air. This was confirmed when I felt the crispy roughness of rust under my palm on the steel. I attached the small boat to the gangway using a nylon cord that was attached to a metal ring on the side. Two frayed lengths of filthy rope hung down into the water near the gangway. They were attached to a pulley that hung over the deck above. Their purpose was to lower and raise the gangway from the water level. After some effort I managed to lower the gangway to the level of the boat. The process was noisy as the ropes had not been moved in a long time and the pulley was almost seized with rust. The ropes left my hands smeared with grease. I climbed onto the heavy mesh of the gangway and looked up. It seemed to stretch forever and I estimated that it was at least thirty metres long. I had expected there to be some kind of barricade to prevent people like myself from boarding the ship but there was none. The well trodden mesh gangway with its two rickety bannisters stretched up ahead of me at a forty five degree angle to the deck of the ship.

  Treading carefully I made my way up, passing the thick chains that held the metal sections of the gangway. I heard them scrape the hull of the ship three times as I climbed.

  It was a sound not unlike someone scratching a blackboard with long finger nails. Apart from that unsettling noise there was nothing but an eerie silence all around. The moon shone bright in the goggles as I stepped off the gangway and onto the deck. All around were the tell-tale signs of a hurriedly abandoned ship. There were empty and dented barrels strewn around and piles of greasy chains in great heaps. I could see the smashed windows of the conning tower and broken glass along with mounds of bird droppings and general litter everywhere. It was a mess, and a hazardous one at that. Twisted and jagged metal machinery lay scattered around and the deck itself was slippery with grease and oil underfoot. I stood there taking in the scene of destruction around me. I was sweating from the climb up the gangway but there was a cooling breeze coming in from the ocean. I turned my attention to the centre of the deck and saw what I had come for. There, sitting at random angles were three damaged and abandoned shipping containers. The one in the centre grabbed my attention immediately. It was the least damaged of the three, and apart from a large dent to the rear, it appeared intact. On its rusted side the words Mediterranean Shipping were printed in faded lettering. I smiled to myself and made my way through the litter and junk to have a closer look. Twenty minutes later I was chugging along in Hassan’s small boat past the darkened coastline towards what I hoped was Baya Beach. The lights of Stone Town were in the distance to my right, so I knew I was headed in the general direction. True to his word, I saw the lights of Hassan's car flash twice ahead of me and I revved the boat until I landed at the exact spot from where I had left. Hassan and I drove in silence back to Stone Town. I counted $1000 in cash and handed it to him in the car park of the Explorers’ Restaurant. He took it gratefully and we said our goodbyes. The party was still in full swing as I walked past the outside seating area and up the beach towards my hotel. My mind was totally pre-occupied with the plan I was formulating. It stayed that way after I turned the lights off and lay on the bed in my room. The large arched windows were wide open and the sea breeze constantly blew at the curtains on either side. I lay there staring out at the moon for a full hour before I drifted off to sleep. I spent most of the next day in my room planning and preparing for the night ahead. I ordered breakfast and lunch from room service and ate on the patio while I watched the boats and dhows in the harbour. I ventured out only once that day in the late afternoon for an hour and wandered the narrow cobbled streets of Stone Town until I found a hardware shop. I purchased a one metre length of thick chain and a heavy duty lock which I stuffed in my bag. I returned to my hotel immediately. Once I was back I spread the tools I would need for the night in front of me on the desk. I ticked them off one by one from a hand written list I had made earlier in the day.

  Black jeans, black tracksuit top, shoes, gloves, skull cap, shoe polish, night vision goggles, rope, panga, liquid ketamine, syringes, hypodermic needles, lock picking tools, garrotte and head torch. I gazed at the array of equipment in front of me and I felt the adrenaline start to buzz in my limbs. It might just fucking work, Green, I thought. Next I called Hassan. He answered in the same nervous tone as he had the previous evening but agreed to meet me after an hour in the car park of the Explorers’ Restaurant. I waited until it was time to leave, left through the front of the hotel and walked up the beach. There was an easy route out the back and down the street but I needed to keep a low profile on the island. When I arrived at the car park, Hassan was waiting and I climbed in the front seat to talk to him. The trauma of the previous few days had taken their toll on him. He was nervous and jumpy to say the least, but in the end I convinced him that by helping me he would be doing the world a favour. That and earning another $10 000 cash of course. I explained that if all went well, there would be no dead bodies this time and all he had to do was to drive me to Paje, drop me in the bush near the wall of the big house and wait for me to return with my cargo. From there he would drive me back to Stone Town and to Baya Beach, where his boat would be waiting once again. I knew full well that what he had earned from me already was considerably more than he would make in a year. Eventually, he agreed and we made an arrangement to meet at the same place at 11pm that night. I felt the excitement and adrenaline building as I walked back down the beach in the setting sun. My plan was starting to come together and if it worked Carlos da Costa would get his comeuppance in a big way. It was dark by the time I finished packing my bag in the room. I knew I had to eat although my appetite was non existent due to the building excitement and anticipation. I ordered a small dinner from room service and ate slowly on the patio as I watched the movement in the harbour wind down for the night. I spent the next three and a half hours alternating between pacing the room and watching news on the television. A frustrating and anxious time that seemed to take forever. I smok
ed and glanced at my watch repeatedly until I saw it was 10.45pm. It was time to go.

  Leaving everything but the bag I had packed, I left the hotel and walked down the beach to the Explorers’ Restaurant. As usual there was loud music and crowds of tourists enjoying themselves inside. Hassan was parked in his usual spot and greeted me soberly as I arrived. We drove off down the now familiar sea front road and turned right at the port building. We stopped once in Stone Town to pick up one last item on my shopping list. I packed the three five-litre bottles of mineral water in the foot well of the back of Hassan’s cab and we drove off out of Stone Town towards Paje. Hassan and I smoked and spoke in hushed tones on the journey.

  As usual, the road was deserted at that time of night as were the police road blocks. Had it not been for those road blocks I would have hired a vehicle rather than used Hassan, but I knew he was friendly with the policemen and I decided that it would be best to have him with me in the event I was stopped. The Jozani Forest was dark, oppressive, silent, and humid as we wound our way through it. My heart rate was slightly increased and my hands sweaty, as we neared the turn off to Paje. My instructions to Hassan were almost exactly the same as the last time. He was to drop me near the wall, drive for a few hundred metres and wait quietly until I returned. In the event of a car stopping or any questions being asked he was to say that he was having car trouble and was waiting for assistance. I saw the whites of his eyes in the dash lights and I knew he was scared. I told him to slow down a bit at the turn off to give me time to black up and get changed. We passed the various hotels on our left and by the time we had cleared the Eden Beach Lodge I was ready. Five minutes later we arrived at the tall stone wall and Hassan pulled in to the left slowly to park.

  “I'll be back as soon as I can Hassan. Just relax. Everything will be fine,” I said reassuringly. I wish I had been able to believe myself at that moment. In reality, I had no idea if it would be fine at all. I had no clue as to what sort of obstacles I would be facing and I was more than aware of the sheer audacity of what I was planning. But I was certain of one thing. I would deal with Carlos da Costa that night. One way or another it was going to happen. Hassan reversed the car and drove off slowly as I made my way left down the rough clearing near the wall. Before long I was once again surrounded by the dark, oppressive stickiness of the jungle. The tension had levelled out and I felt the tingling buzz of the adrenaline in my limbs as I pulled the night vision goggles over the skull cap. After a while I reached the familiar palm tree where I had crossed before. Slowly and methodically, I went through the motions of attaching my rope and throwing it over before starting the climb. I paused at the top to catch my breath and study the scene in front of me. The big house loomed in the distance to my left. It looked even more ominous that night, and for a brief moment I doubted myself and the crazy and dangerous plan I had hatched. I shook the thought from my head and remembered Angelique and Richard. I was there for a reason and a very good one at that. With that thought in my mind I grabbed the rope and started the climb down. The first part of my plan was to visit the caves and the cocaine storage facility. I very much doubted there would be any packing of surfboards that night what with Tintin having gone missing. I made my way through the thick bush and jungle until I arrived near the car park and the pathway to the packing building. I paused to look and listen for any activity. There was none and everything was quiet.

  One thing I did notice was both Angelique's car and the Hummer had been returned. I guessed Carlos would have reported them missing and had them brought back from Richard's hotel. Keeping a good distance from the pathway I made my way towards the packing factory. As expected, there were no sounds of machinery that night and the building was silent in darkness as I passed it. I was less certain of the cave system so I exercised extreme caution as I made my approach to the entrance. When I arrived, I was surprised to see a heavy gate blocking the way. It had obviously always been there, but had been hidden from view by the foliage on either side. There were no sounds or light coming from the inside so I dropped my bag, removed the lock pick set and set to work.

  The sweat dripping made the job difficult but ten minutes later I slid the gate open, picked up my bag, and stepped into the darkness of the first chamber of the caves. I stopped and held my breath to listen. Apart from my breathing and the occasional plop of water dripping into the still pool, it was silent. Slowly I made my way around to the left towards the opening of the second chamber. I looked up for the hole from where I had witnessed Angelique's killing and saw the bright green pin pricks of the stars through the goggles. On the desk in front of me lay a snub nosed .45 calibre revolver. I picked it up and saw it was fully loaded. I pocketed it and moved on. There was a patch of discolouration on the floor of the cave from Angelique's blood. It turned my stomach when I saw it but I put it out of my mind and concentrated on the second gate which lead to the storage area. Again it was sweaty, difficult work opening the lock, but eventually I succeeded and stepped inside. The pallet with the pile of cocaine was smothered with tiny sachets of silica gel. I brushed the small sachets away and picked up the top packet. It was packed incredibly tightly and had the consistency of putty to touch through the tough plastic. Its contents were a creamy greenish colour in the light of the goggles. I put its weight at two kgs. At that moment I heard a rustling sound behind me. I spun around on my heels with my heart racing, but saw nothing. I realised the sound had come from the hole in the top of the caves. A small animal perhaps? Relieved I took my bag from my shoulder, opened it, and put it on the ground. My heart pounded in my chest as I placed five two-kilogram packets of cocaine in the bag and closed it. I’m sure it'll be enough. I closed the gate as I left and made my way back to the first cave. I paused at the entrance to listen but everything was quiet.

  It was a huge relief to step out of the confines of the caves and back into the relative safety of the open. Immediately, I turned left and walked into the jungle to take cover and rest. But there was little satisfaction as I squatted down in the cover of the jungle. I had completed the second part of my plan but it was the third and most dangerous part that worried me.

  I pulled up my tracksuit sleeve and glanced at my watch. It was 12.30pm, I was making good time at least. Following the path from a distance I made my way back past the packing factory to the car park. Once again I stopped to survey the area and look at my options. My entire body was itching from the prickly heat and humidity of the night. The shaded carports were full of vehicles as usual and I saw that if I crossed the driveway and approached from the right I would have good cover of darkness. I crept slowly through the foliage towards the driveway and pulled the googles into the upright position. I looked up the drive to my right and saw it wind off into the distance. I guessed it was a good few hundred metres to the gate so I quickly dashed across into the bushes on the other side. My brief moment of exposure had gone unseen and I was once again hidden by the darkness. I knew I needed to be extremely careful in my approach to the house. Treading lightly, I made my way through the undergrowth and on to an area of dark lawn to the right of the carports. Being so close to the house gave me an extra boost of adrenaline. Every sense was heightened as I crawled out in front of the vehicles. I was most interested in the Hummer. Assuming the next part of my plan was successful, the tinted windows of the vehicle would offer me the invisibility I needed to clear the gate and escape from the property. I crawled on my hands and knees along the front of the line of parked vehicles until I reached the Hummer. Then I moved onto the tarmac until I was below the front driver’s door. Surely there won’t be any need for vehicle alarms given the amount of security on the perimeter of the property. With that thought in my mind, I stood up and tried to take a look inside the tinted window. It was to no avail as it was completely blacked out. I took a deep breath and gently opened the door. To my relief there was no siren and the door opened with a soft click. Keeping the door only slightly open I felt inside with my left arm for the ignition. Ev
entually I found it to the right of the steering wheel and I heard the clinking sound of the keys as my hand brushed against them. Excellent. I closed the door as quietly as I could and crouched down to crawl back to the lawn in front of the vehicles. Keeping low and staying in the darkness I moved off towards the far side of the house. Eventually I arrived at a thickly wooded area and I decided it would make a good place to prepare to enter the house. I dumped the bag and then using the goggles once again, I retrieved the syringes and the bottle of ketamine. I realised I was breathing heavily as I opened the plastic box of syringes so I closed my eyes and sat for a minute in an attempt to control it. Once it was under control, I peeled the silver foil away from one of the hypodermic needles. After placing the used foil safely in my bag, I pushed the needle onto the nozzle of the syringe. A mixture of sweat and shoe polish ran into my right eye and I had to lift the goggles to rub it away. It stung fiercely and I blinked a few times before pulling the goggles back down. I held the bottle of horse tranquilliser up and looked at it.