The old man passed the fuel line down the wall. Dick took it and pushed it expertly into the tank, snapped the flow lock and stood up
“OK let it go. I need about five hundred litres each side.” Dick stood up, wiping his hands with a large piece of rag.
“I've had a good day as well, almost six thousand litres to those fellows over there.” The old man pointed with his crooked arthritic index finger.
Dick followed the line and saw, barely visible in the shadow of an ocean going trawler, the sterns of the three powerboats.
“What are they up to then?” Dick asked innocently.
“Don't know, a bit strange really - they've had a long trip though. I thought they were divers at first but judging by some of their complexions they are definitely landlubbers from the south - I can tell by their dialect. Up to no good, if I had to guess,” the old man winked and tapped his nose knowingly.
Dick completed the refuelling and paid.
“Can I leave her here? I'll be about ten minutes.”
“It's OK by me,” the old man confirmed and vanished inside his shack.
Dick walked over to the little café where four or five young men were sitting. The glasses on the table all appeared to contain mint tea or just water.
“Good afternoon,” Dick greeted them politely, sitting down at the only other free table. He ordered a coffee and relaxed. “Excuse me for asking but do any of you know about a Japanese dive boat looking for crew in these parts?”
To a man they turned sharply and stared at Dick.
“What dive boat?” the nearest hissed.
Trying to appear casual, Dick replied,
“I just heard that there is a Japanese diving expedition being fitted out around here somewhere - apparently they're looking for pointers and divers.”
“We know nothing,” the same man replied abruptly.
“I just wondered when I saw those powerboats moored over there.” He pointed vaguely across the harbour.
Without another word they all got up from their chairs and left the café. The man who had spoken stood menacingly over Dick.
“I repeat we know nothing and if you want to stay healthy, neither do you, understand?”
“Sorry friend, it means nothing to me. I was just curious, sorry,” Dick repeated, raising his hand in surrender and looking suitably contrite.
The man stared at Dick for a couple more seconds, then turned and walked silently away.
Dick was a tough streetwise fisherman and recognised hard men when he met them and knew full well the right time at least to appear to submit; as the beads perspiration trickled down his back he knew that this was one of those times.
Returning gratefully to his boat, he cast-off and moved slowly across the harbour, aiming at the powerboats. As he moved closer, he was surprised to see men in the cockpit casually cleaning their automatic weapons. On the next boat he could see several yellow compressed air cylinders. When they heard the noise of Dick's engines, the men simply turned their backs to conceal their weapons. Dick swung the boat slowly away and moved out to sea. He dare not use the VHF radio; others would almost certainly be monitoring the channels. He had to get back to Annie and call Alex from the landline.
Dick arrived at first light and moored his boat alongside the cargo vessel, which John had now re-named La Vielle. She in turn was moored parallel to the tug.
f
Alex was going to need some special help and information - so he called the Boss at SONIC. A few hours later, the Boss reported that he'd been able to establish that the diving vessel was chartered by some mysterious Japanese businessmen and was owned by a dubious Singapore company. In his opinion the businessmen were almost certainly just underworld villains, hiding under the Golden Lily canopy.
The Boss could not find any definitive information on the powerboat owners but given that the old fuel attendant was correct and they came from the southern islands, they were almost certainly the same terrorist group that had been deprived of their expensive arms shipment and was now out for revenge.
“Looks as though you should have come straight home instead of doing a bit of moonlighting eh,” the Boss chuckled. “Still I don't suppose you will ever stay out of trouble will you!” Then more seriously, he said, “Just one thing to remember. You're a family man now, so no bloody heroics.”
“You know me Boss.”
“Exactly.”
The telephone vibrated seconds after the Boss terminated his call. It was Hans.
“Ah Alex, I'm afraid I've detected more mobile calls and they're not from the lady's phone. Whoever it is, they called the same number in Manila.”
“Damn!” Alex exclaimed. “Thanks Hans. I'll get back to you.”
Alex was in his element, sifting through the various pieces of evidence and planning the strategy to protect the two ships and above all the divers who would be operating day and night whenever the tide and current allowed.
w
By strapping two of La Vielle's longest derricks between the two vessels, they effectively created a catamaran, allowing them to work the heavy lifting cables and underwater vehicles in between the two hulls.
Greg, wearing a safety helmet equipped with earphones and microphone, had both of La Vielle's remaining derricks working to commands from the divers almost eighty metres below, where the job of gaining access to the submarine's pressure hull was proving to be slow and difficult work. An oxyacetylene torch had to be used to cut into ancient frames, which were then pulled away by the ship's derrick. “Big Blaster” was working at maximum delivery alongside the divers, attempting to blow away the silt that constantly hampered their vision.
The first real success came on the third day of the operation when a large piece of steel plating, still attached to its curved metal frame, was finally pulled away.
“It's still pretty cloudy but I think we're in!” Hal shouted in excitement, his voice distorted by the tinny microphone. “Over here with âbig blaster' - let's see if we can clear some of this shit out of the way.”
There was silence for a couple of minutes while they struggled to blow the silt away from the opening. Gradually the water cleared and there in the bright yellow arc light was the opening they had hoped for.
“It looks a bit of a mess in there!” Hal observed. “We'll have to get the suction hose going before we venture inside otherwise we'll have another silt storm!”
The sharks retreated out of range when the steel plate was pulled away, creating so much debris in the water. After a few minutes, as the water cleared again, and increasingly irritated by the intrusion into their private world, they returned.
f
Old Ling's daughter Ellie-Mae and her son Ming-Lee were still on board La Vielle. However, knowing that some kind of conflict was almost inevitable in the very near future, Alex decided that they should be put ashore into Annie's safe keeping, at least until the diving operation was completed.
“There is likely to be some serious trouble out here.” He raised his hand at her protest. “I promised your father I would keep you safe and keep you safe is what I intend. So in spite of your wonderful cooking, Dick will take you ashore. You will be in good hands with Annie so please no arguments.”
“I'm only going for Ming Lee's sake,” she protested with typical dignity. “I'll get our things.” She turned and left the cabin.
“Right next problem,” Alex addressed the empty cabin. “Oscar and Marion!”
w
Dick carried his reluctant passengers ashore and delivered them into Annie's care.
“I don't know what you're getting up to but you'd better be careful or you'll have me to deal with!” Annie scolded Dick.
She knew she could never persuade him to stay away; the temptation of adventure was too great for such a man. She reached out and held him tight.
“I'll be waiting for you.”
Dick, embarrassed by the display of emotion, gave her a quick hug and pushed her gently away.
“Oh stop worrying - you don't think I'd let anything happen to our boat do you?” He turned and left.
“Oh men!” Annie sobbed. “Why do we let ourselves become so involved?”
Ming-Lee looked up into Annie's eyes and, smiling innocently, placed her tiny hand into Annie's and squeezed it gently.
“Don't worry, I don't think they'll stay out there any longer than necessary - not without mummy's cooking!”
f
In order to assess their potential threat, Alex wanted to see the Japanese dive boat and the three powerboats for himself so travelled ashore with Dick.
“We can walk around to the fish quay - the boat is still there. I caught sight of the helipad as we rounded the headland.”
Dick led off at a brisk walk.
“This way,” he commanded
As they approached the fishing harbour they met the man Dick had spoken with the other morning; Dick was convinced that he knew him from somewhere else but could not quite place him.
“You didn't sign on then?” Dick approached him.
The man was still truculent.
“Nah they don't want real seamen.”
“Oh so what do they want?”
The man turned and studied Dick carefully, then looked across at Alex.
“I wasn't really sure,” the man eventually replied in a low voice. ”I suddenly decided that in spite of the big payday being offered, it was all a bit too vague and secretive for me - though I could have done with the money!” he sighed. “Anyway its too late now - they're leaving.” He pointed at the ship.
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.