Prologue
It was three years ago, that Lieutenant Finn O'Connor was hiding behind a rock with a dead man. He was breathing carefully so that he would not cough – he had to concentrate. He never imagined that he would ever fall out of the back of a helicopter on the western slope of a mountain in the border region of Afghanistan and Pakistan. He wished that he was better acclimated to the high altitude with its lower oxygen levels. When he arrived in country, he only had two days to jog and work out in the thin air of northeast Afghanistan. Special Ops Command recognized the importance of high altitude training so Finn knew how to control the muscles in his throat so that they would not spasm, but now rage and sorrow brought on a fit of coughing as he lost the battle with his lungs.
Finn and LT Doug Justice had been overwhelmed by the enemy and after thirteen hours stranded on a mountainside, they were pinned down one hundred yards and thirty degrees upslope from a swarm of Taliban fighters who were taking turns blasting up stone and shooting holes and chips in the boulders around them as they fought for their lives. Only the two of them had fallen from the damaged chopper but one of the two men was now dead.
The operation was carefully planned to deploy 2,000 U.S. and 1,000 Afghan troops to battle only 350 Taliban fighters for control of the 70 square mile valley. Doug was stunned that such a seemingly disproportionate number happened to be right here, insistent on disintegrating everything around them before they would finally move in for the kill – and there was not much doubt that they would succeed.
“Here’s the plan Finn; we run out and I’ll take out the two hundred on the left and you take the three hundred on the right,” Doug had snickered only five minutes before as splinters of rock stung their hands and exposed necks.
Finn had laughed bravely, brushing snow from his rifle, still mindful of the snipers and the zings, snaps and cracks of the bullets hitting the stones and boulders that surrounded them.
Two more bullets, one a tracer, slammed into a hardy evergreen. As the bullets shredded the bark, the smells of fresh pine and crisp clean snow reached out and comforted him. This place was not so different from the wilderness that surrounded the family cabin just outside Breckenridge, Colorado. The connecting roads to the cabin from either direction were usually closed from early December until the snow and ice were cleared in the spring, so his father shuttled the family back and forth to the slopes in his personal helicopter. His father, Jack O’Connor, had served for a short time as an Air Force bomber pilot and then returned home to become a successful defense attorney, and if the notion that an attractive lawyer has better chances with a jury is true, Jack O’Connor was solid gold. A bit over six feet tall with a strong square jaw and steel blue eyes; Jack had passed on his appearance to his twenty eight year old son.
The fleeting thought of Colorado life was extinguished as another volley of gunfire swished into the snow only two feet from him.
Finn’s throat tightened as he heard the snap of Kevlar and a thump that was more solid than fleshy. He had been in the Team for two years, and that made him an old-timer. He knew those sounds and he did not need to look. Bone was near the surface – the bullet probably clipped the edge of his Doug’s helmet before penetrating his skull.
“You okay, Doug?” he asked with a quavering voice. He would not look at Doug because he knew what he would see, and he hated it. He never got used to the death stare and he damn sure wasn’t going to allow the vision to be his last memory of his close friend. He knew Doug was gone and no longer breathing the cold earthy smell of the frozen boulders that had been shielding him and his Platoon leader from the automatic rifle fire. A ricochet had slammed into his temple. His friend was now a wandering spirit. He wished it was not true but thanked God it was not him.
Finn had convinced himself that there was one or as many as three Predator drones overhead, sending live composite and infrared video images back to headquarters. A General or an Admiral was probably looking over the shoulders of a bunch of Majors, all watching several infra-red monitors. The warm bodies of the two Navy SEALs were displayed as two hot white spots only a few meters above a full company of busy white spots on a dark background that was the deep, cold snow that separated them from the enemy. He was certain that the same images were being watched in real-time in Tampa, Florida, at Headquarters, Special Operations Command.
He easily imagined that Admiral Bradley “Tank” Biffle himself was giving orders simultaneously to his immediate staff and to the Operations Officer who was just a few miles over the mountain ridge across from the cold warriors.
Admiral Biffle was likely pacing around, worried that the enemy would keep their distance only until they decided that Finn and Doug were out of grenades. Doug hoped that someone would look closely at the two white shapes and realize that one was slowly losing its brilliance. Doug was gone and the two dots would soon become one. In the extreme cold, Doug’s corpse would stiffen and become nearly impossible to carry unless help came soon. He drew Doug’s knees from his prone position so that he would be able to drape his body over his shoulder if a miracle allowed him to escape up the slope.
“They were not going to leave two men behind, even Killed in Action.” He considered the claim that man finds religion when he is faced with his own mortality, and once again he decided that he was better off not insulting God by claiming to be religious just before crashing His party.
Suddenly, the roar of a monstrous avalanche horrified him. It was immediately clear that if the Taliban would not kill him the avalanche certainly would. He had almost resigned himself to succumbing to the power of nature, but after a quick analysis, he recognized that a wall of snow was not descending to bury him – the havoc was down slope. He peeked from the side of the boulder to see no avalanche, but huge mounds of exploding snow erupting and men being ripped to shreds in the distance. He knew this was not a natural occurrence but an awesome display of military might. He did not hear or see the tell-tale signs of aircraft overhead; he could do no better than curl up tightly behind the boulder and let things unfold.
An AC-130 Spooky gunship was flying a lazy circle nearly three miles above his position. When he finally understood, he chanced another look to watch the terrain exploding just seventy meters away, with over 4,000 high-explosive rounds per minute chewing up earth and humanity.
Over the din of the barrage, he heard an aircraft. He easily recognized the rescue workhorse in the distance. An Army CH-47 Chinook helicopter was thumping towards him and he wished he could hear Doug absently humming and wagging his tongue side-to-side sounding his impression of the helo’s two huge synchronized propellers. It was not a particularly good impression but he did it every time they were dropped off or picked up in these crazy-ass places.
He pulled the VHF radio and tried to raise the helicopter on the common guard frequency; but there was no answer. As the chopper came nearer he twisted his body from the prone position to watch the Chinook begin to settle just over the ridge. The chopper was still about twenty feet off the ground when machine-gun fire erupted from several directions, ripping into the chopper. He could see that the pilot was trying to pitch the nose down and throttle up but a rocket-propelled grenade burst in from the port side, tearing through the fuselage. More enemy machine-gun fire followed the RPG, ripping into the interior and into the brave men who were sent to rescue them. The aircraft suddenly shuddered violently and dropped, landing hard enough to shake the rock under Finn’s knees. He dove for cover as a huge rotor blade cleaved through the sky only ten feet over his head. He heard the other giant rotor blades shatter and dig into rock causing the aircraft to shake itself apart. He lost all hope when he heard the groan of the chopper’s steel structure give way under the stress.
Within minutes, the Air Force combat controller had two A-10 Thunderbolt attack jets overhead to provide close air support – bombing and strafing the forces below. A-10 pilots called the ugly twin turbojet the “Warthog”, but right now it was the most beautiful aircraft that Finn had ever seen. Highly maneuverable, its jet engines were mounted on the fuselage, behind the wing and forward of the horizontal stabilizers which gave it an incredibly tight turning radius.
Finn was able to radio the Warthogs that he was alone and had lit a green smoke grenade to mark his position. After a pass overhead and a look around the area to familiarize themselves with the enemy posture, the aircraft made a bombing run with Rock-eye cluster bombs that opened like clam shells at a set altitude to release their 247 devastating anti-personnel bomblets that scattered over their human targets. After thirty minutes on station the Thunderbolts were relieved by a flight of three F-16 Falcon fighter/bombers. Each lay down sticks of four 500 pound bombs that lit up the side of the mountain below him with brilliance that he had never imagined. He closed his eyes tight until the pink of his eyelids darkened and then opened them to see a thick blanket of smoke that lay before him as if he could walk across the valley on its thick weave. He knew instinctively that the smoke was intended to provide a screen for his escape up the mountain, so he wasted no time lifting Doug to his shoulder and sprinting up the steep incline, fueling his powerful legs and his terror with a roar. At six two, Doug was only an inch taller but Doug carried an extra twenty pounds of sheer muscle. The dash lasted no more than eighty meters when his thighs burned until he could go no further. He dived behind a boulder and lurched and clawed to pull his dead comrade’s legs safely behind the rock. His heart stopped for a moment when he realized that as he pulled Doug’s corpse to safety, his own ass was hanging out on the other side.
Several of the closer enemy troops had been cut off and flushed up the mountain and he planned his escape carefully. He began to run in short sprints, at times stopping after only a few meters.
He heard gunfire above him now – he was caught in a cross-fire! He would not survive in this position. Weary and with a heavy heart, he pressed himself down into the snow and listened to the cacophony that surrounded him. Below, he heard men crying out and screaming in agony and it occurred to him that none of the gunfire from ahead had sought him out; not a single round from above connected around him. He carefully craned his neck back and up to see that it was friendly fire from Army Rangers who had survived the crash and the ensuing gunfight. Finally the Navy SEAL had linked up with rescuers but they were still some two hundred meters from the mountain top.
After reaching the Rangers who directed his every movement, they began to return up the hill always protected at their flank by leapfrogging. Theirs was a physically demanding effort under heavy automatic weapon fire, RPG, and the thin oxygen-deprived mountain air. They slowly climbed the steep slope that was covered in three feet of snow, weighed down by their weapons, body armor and equipment – and Finn carrying Doug’s corpse.
As they neared the Landing Zone, Finn heard another approaching helicopter. Air Force F-16 Fighting Falcons continued to destroy the lower five hundred meters of the mountain while the Warthogs strafed the ridge where the first chopper fell. The newcomer chopper made a careful approach with door gunners finding targets with amazing accuracy. The aerial assault from the doors of the helicopter caused enough confusion and damage to the enemy for the Chinook to drop from the sky and snatch the rescuers, the rescued, and the dead from the frozen mountain.
* * * * *
“Jesus Christ, there is a village down there!”
“Hey; whoa! What’s the problem Chief?”
Chief Petty Officer Jose "Ricky" Ricardo did not know that the full bird Colonel had walked into the operations tent, but he quickly decided he did not care. “Right here!” Ricky put his finger on a small-scale topography chart, where perpendicular and parallel lines depicted roads and alleys. “This is where we were… and this is a fucking village!”
“I doubt it is populated Chief. Your rescue was planned with the Intel weenies.”
Ricky needed to know for sure that those F-16s did not drop Napalm on an inhabited village. “Yes; our lives were saved and I really appreciate that Colonel,” He said with a mocking voice. “But if this village is populated, my rescue will mean nothing.” The least of his concerns was this self-important field grade officer.
“That is enough Chief.” A Major interjected.
“No, let him speak,” the Colonel waved him off. “This is interesting, a Special Ops Lieutenant with a critique of Joint Operations.”
“Colonel,” Ricky softened his voice, “do you need a critique at this point? What about those MK-77 bombs that were spewed over the side of that mountain?” Ricky saw recognition in the Colonel’s face. “You ordered those birds to drop Napalm fire bombs when you knew the targets were human.”
“Lieutenant, Napalm is a note in history, this is not Vietnam.”
“It was a slight chemical change, just to get rid of that ugly name, like clean underwear on a dirty ass,” Ricky hissed,
“That weapon is still unguided and tumbles through the air until it slams into the earth, spewing flames over everything, but this new monster is nearly impossible to put out.”
“In any event, those aircraft were tasked by Central Command in Tampa.” The Colonel sighed, with a smug smile.
Ricky froze – stunned. “Are you telling me that this air battle is being fought from 10,000 miles and nine time zones away?” He began pacing and speaking aloud to no person in particular. “Hell, the Special Forces have two different Commanders giving conflicting orders. We have a chopper down and God only knows how many of those men will survive; all because we can’t even put together an intelligence picture. If the CIA and military intelligence are disconnected, that makes six different Task Group Commanders fucking up one rescue mission alone.”
“That’s enough.” The Colonel said through clenched teeth, remembering that they were in a room full of junior enlisted women and men. He moved closer and let his shoulders drop. “Look Justice, I have never been through anything even remotely as bad as your last 14 hours, but I want you to know that those MK-77s were used to provide a smoke screen for your escape up that mountain.”
Ricky was not buying it. He knew the weapon would surely provide a hell of a smoke screen but that was a side effect. The good Colonel was just covering his ass. “What about the village?” Ricky asked loud enough for every man in the tent to hear, “If intelligence missed a full company of enemy on that mountainside then how can we know for sure that the village at the foot of the mountain was uninhabited?”
The room went silent and the Colonel flushed red. “That village was cleared in the beginning stages of this operation and has been cleared regularly since then.” The Colonel’s voice was not confident. There was not a single person in the tent who was certain that innocent people were not killed that day.
Ricky glared at the Colonel. “Joey, patch me to CENTCOM,” Ricky commanded, “Tell them to patch Chief Ricardo through to Lieutenant Colonel Jacobs.” The young Petty Officer looked to the Colonel for approval. The Ops Officer simply nodded his head - he would rather let someone else, someone with at least one star, settle this.
Ricky put the receiver to his ear and waited a long time for the switchboard to pass his name around. “Chief, I have Admiral Biffle on line two. He wants to take the call himself.”
Ricky lost a bit of courage when he heard the name. Vice Admiral Biffle was the Deputy Commander, Special Operations. Ricky knew the Admiral well; he was the senior Navy Special Operations officer and famous with the enlisted men as an obnoxious self-serving bully. At the same time, the officers loved him - he was a super guy. How a man like Biffle was promoted to Admiral was a wonder to everyone Ricky knew.
“Chief Ricardo, Tank Biffle here. How are you? Can I help with something?”
“Hello, sir. I’m sorry to bother you. I did not want my call to bother you - I just wanted to discuss air operations with the aviation element.
“There’s no need for that, Chief. I can help you with this. What’s the story?”
“Well, sir. Some of our F-16s were tasked to lay down a line of MK-77’s near a village and obviously we need to patch things up so things like that do not happen. I thought it was important enough to be considered at the highest levels.”
“Can you give me GPS coordinates so that I can see the picture?” The Admiral asked.
“Yes sir, let me go over and roll the trackball for a position.”
“Take your time, Chief.”
Ricky went over to a display and asked an operator to get the GPS coordinates for the little village that was supposed to be uninhabited. A moment later the phone rang out and the Ops Officer handed it to Finn. “It’s Admiral Biffle again.”
The Admiral was on two lines. Ricky crinkled his eyebrows and took the call.
“Ricardo, its Biffle. Who do you think you are you arrogant prick?” The connection was bad and the Admiral’s tone had changed from concern to fury. Ricky looked over at the phone bank and saw that the other line was still on hold.
“Sir?”
“Listen to me, you stupid mother-fucker. We lost Doug Justice, one of the very best men our country has ever produced. They were pinned down and you have the nerve to question the rescue mission.” The Admiral spoke quietly but with venom.
“I am sorry, sir,” Ricky was mortified; “I did not know the decision was made at SPECOPS. I assumed it was tasked by the aviation element.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you thought. God damn it, I will go to any length to protect my men, and I think you are forgetting that you are one of my men. You have stepped up way above your pay grade and you had better limit yourself to operations, or I will take special interest in your personal life! The line went dead.
Ricky kept the receiver to his ear in shock.
“Chief, it’s Admiral Biffle again.” The Petty Officer held out the telephone that was on hold during the cell conversation.” It was immediately clear to Ricky that there would be no record of Admiral Biffle’s strong words and disregard for innocent lives.
“Hello Chief,” the Admiral’s voice was clear now; the connection was much better than the obvious cell phone. “I see the position on our display. I showed it to our CIA weenie and he confirmed that the village was actually a front for Heroin trade. That location has been uninhabited for quite some time.” His voice became stern. “Let me know if I can help anymore, Chief. You can call me anytime.” The line went dead.
* * * * *
Four days later, Ricky stood with Finn and his wife, Sarah, at Ricky’s funeral. Both Finn and Ricky were due to transfer so Admiral Biffle insisted that they accompany Ricky on his return to his family.
“Look at her; she looks so tired,” Sarah O’Connor sighed, looking across at Ricky’s mother, “I can’t imagine how I would feel if this had been your funeral.”
Finn squeezed her hand as he watched Admiral Biffle approached the grieving mother across from a small plot of earth where a giant of a man would rest forever. He watched the Admiral take her hand gently into his own and speak to her. Finn did not know what the Admiral said but Mrs. Ricardo smiled softly and straightened her back, seeming to swell with pride. He had obviously said something wonderful. That was the Admiral’s way. He could make anyone smile; even a mother at her son’s burial ceremony.
After the service, Finn and Sarah O’Connor stood with Ricky, away from the immediate family, respectful of their need to be alone to see their son lowered into the grave. It was a beautiful plot in the Arlington National Cemetery, reserved for heroes. Ricky suddenly stiffened when Admiral Biffle and his pretty and relatively young girlfriend approached. She stayed close the Admiral’s arm. Finn knew that she had been in America for several years while finishing her graduate studies but that was every thing he knew. Biffle seemed very proud and Finn knew the Admiral well enough that this girl was not a mere trophy – it was not his style. The lovely Asian girl would have earned her way into Tank Biffle’s heart.
“It was a beautiful ceremony, don’t you think?” The Admiral said to Sarah proudly.
“Yes, it was very lovely. They are very proud of him aren’t they?”
“Indeed, they are as proud as any family who has lost a son in battle. Doug was an outstanding soldier and no one knows that better than your husband… and Ricky.”
The Admiral looked at Ricky, acknowledging his presence finally, after a full day together. “Listen, Ricky,” Biffle said with respect, “I never got around to apologizing to you.”
“Sir?” Ricky feigned ignorance.
“Come on, Ricky, I was wrong about that village but not to the degree that would warrant any grudge. Those were drug runners down there and they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“If one of your staff had not been caught up in that business we would have never known.” Ricky said hotly.
“Gentlemen,” Lin said with impatience, “this is not the place; it is not appropriate.”
“You’re right, of course.” The Admiral’s tone did not change – he was subdued but Finn knew he held back for the benefit of the women. Then he changed the direction of the conversation quickly, and put an arm around the girl’s waist. “I’m sorry, Lynn honey; I did not introduce you… Lynn, this is Chief Petty Officer Ricky Ricardo,” the Admiral said respectfully, “and this is Finn and Sarah O’Connor.” He shifted his body. “Everyone this is Lynn.”
She smiled shyly and shook their hands. “It is very nice to meet you all. Brad has spoken highly of you on many occasions.”
“Finn was with Doug when he was killed,” The Admiral told Lynn, “and we might have lost Finn as well if Ricky had not been on the other end of the rescue mission.”
“Yep, Ricky is my desktop hero.” Finn laughed and everyone joined him. “Ricky smiled but there was still hostile air about him and the Admiral seemed impatient with the oppressive atmosphere.
“Ricky has decided to leave us – Singapore bound. “The Admiral said, watching for a reaction from Ricky. “I signed your orders yesterday.”
“Thank you, sir. I know you could have assigned me to any position that needed a guy like me.” Ricky forced a smile.
“Not at all, Ricky,” His eyes narrowed, “If you want Singapore, then you get Singapore. I want both of you to know that you have earned any posting that you desire. I’m not a paternalist by any means; but I’m satisfied to have you both in important assignments.”
Ricky did not buy it. He knew the Admiral was very pleased with his assignment. In fact, the Admiral created the position for him. He would be a trainer and liaison with the Singapore Special Operations Force and that was a choice that would burn bridges. He would be passed over for promotion and forced out of the Navy.
“Where are you from, Lynn?” Sarah asked.
“Lynn’s family is in Malaysia” Biffle seemed fast to speak for her. Lynn nodded politely and stretched up to whisper into Biffle’s ear.
“Well folks, I suppose we have to get on the road.” Biffle said, “Lynn is delivering her thesis tomorrow morning so we need to get to the airport. She’s a financial prodigy,” he kidded, “She will make me a millionaire by the end of the year.” He offered his hand to Sarah. “It’s always nice to see you Sarah; I hope you like San Diego. You can be certain that Finn will do very well with a department head job under his belt.” He turned to Finn, “Be sure to invite me to your pinning ceremony when you become an admiral.” Biffle laughed and slapped Finn on his shoulder. “I’m in San Diego nearly as much as my office in Tampa so I will surely see you soon.”
Lin said her quiet goodbyes and shook everyone’s hand – and they left.
“He took a big breath and rolled his eyes. “I criticized his decision to bomb a small village at the bottom of that mountainside where Finn and Doug were pinned down. He knew the town was a cover for an organization that trafficked in heroin and he took it upon himself to destroy the village using Finn’s situation to cover his ass. I’m not arguing that it was not a noble cause but he put people in danger.” Ricky’s face was crimson and he was speaking with passion.
“He was even using Ranger volunteers to infiltrate the heroin trade. It became public when one of the men was killed. Central Command decided that it would be a bad idea to admit that there was a vigilante at the top of the food chain so they made him out to be a hero.”
“And I disagree.” Finn challenged, looking at Sarah. “The heroin trade is certainly a matter of national security but I do not think for a moment that the Admiral considered anything but me and Ricky when he ordered that air strike, and the Admiral’s actions had a devastating effect on Taliban funding.”
“That may be true but I believe he was reckless by putting those men in danger. If he had not been so successful, we might be attending his retirement ceremony. A man was killed for Christ sake.”
“How did you decide on Singapore?” Sarah asked to change the subject before it turned into an argument.
Ricky smiled. “I am going to finish up my hitch in Singapore where nobody is shooting at me. I fell in love with that place when we deployed there during senior year at the Academy. Remember Finn?”
“You should start job hunting while you are over there my friend.” Finn
“Stop it Finn.” Sarah demanded.”
“Come on, Ricky,” Finn said, “Do you think I don’t know you by now? You were born for this shit. You cannot blame every flag officer for every mistake. Hell yeah, there are some stupid SOBs that would call in an air strike on their Grandma’s house if they thought it would get them a promotion.” he laughed and pushed Ricky’s shoulder. “They are the minority man. We have worked hard to be here and we are the best – America needs us man.”
Ricky’s eyes flared. “America needs us?” He sneered. “Most Americans do not even know where we are and what we are doing. The talk show hosts and the talking heads on the news decide what people should believe. Fuck, a limousine driver slash actor gets lucky and a couple of years later he is spouting out his opinion of us and the sheep make him a UN ambassador.” Ricky was shaking with emotion. “And politicians are just a bunch of fucking poll surfers making statements that appeal to the Admiral beliefs of one group of people and then revise their opinions for another group. They just ride the opinion polls and when the polls start to shift, there words become vague until a new consensus is strong enough to then behave as if they were the visionaries.” Ricky took a deep breath. “I’ve just had enough, that’s all,” He was spiritually exhausted and his voice broke. “I think I will open a nightclub or something. They have a pretty good music scene.”
“Holy crap; that’s it, isn’t it? You still want to be a rock star.” Finn laughed pleasantly.
“That is part of it, yeah.” He smiled and nodded his head. “You’ll visit, right?”
Finn smiled at him. “Yes, I will visit. In fact, when I make Commander I’ll schedule unnecessary operations in Singapore just for an excuse to see you.”
Ricky's eyes widened as he looked upward to the sky. After a moment he said, "Please don't think I'm ungrateful Admiral but I don't think a Master Chief will get along very well with a Staff
“Commander? You stinking lifer!”
* * * * *
Finn and Sarah were on their way to his parents after Doug’s funeral and Finn was still trying to come to terms with Doug’s death.
“You know, Sarah; Doug is the one person that was invincible in my mind.”
“I know Sweetie,” Sarah grasped his arm and pulled herself close to him. “He meant a lot to you. I wish I had known him.” She acted cheerful, hoping to help Finn struggle to put it behind him.
They were driving to Finns parents and Finn was tapping the steering wheel in time with the windshield wipers when the ring of his cell phone startled him from his thoughts. He fumbled around, trying to locate his cell phone.
“Watch the road.” Sarah scolded, “It’s raining too hard and the highway is covered with water.”
Finn found the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, son, where are you?”
“We’re running a little late, Mom. The funeral was delayed and we did not check out of the hotel until an hour ago. It’s raining pretty badly, we might have to stop. I can hardly see the hood of the car.”
“So I hear. I just talked to Jim. He and the boys are riding out now to round up the cattle; get them to high ground just in case the rain saturates the soil. I hope we did not lose any already.”
“I need to hang up, Mom, the weather is getting worse.”
“Alright, alright, the creek might be busting its banks. Be careful, okay?”
“I promise. Bye, Mom.” Finn closed his cell phone and peered out at the road. He unconsciously bit his lip. The rain was still coming hard, and the wind seemed to be picking up.
As they rounded a curve, he could see water streaming over the banks of the swollen creek below – just how deep it was he could only guess. Out of habit he straightened in his seat to look out over the concrete highway to see the wooden bridge that traffic used when he was a child. The water had breached the sides and was carrying away ancient pieces of lumber. He hoped the bridge that held so many childhood memories would survive.
“FINN!”
There was no longer the hum of the tires on asphalt and he watched the horizon slowly spinning before them. He let his foot up off the accelerator and held his breath while he waited for the tires to grab the road again. They were spinning fast now and it would be bad when the tires finally grabbed the road.
He turned to look at his wife who was already searching his face. She had scolded him, begged him to slow down, to be careful. Now they were spinning down the highway. He looked over and out her window and saw the shoulder of the highway disappearing under the car. He tried to counter the spin by jerking the wheel over. He over-compensated, sending the car rolling over and down the embankment until they landed upright on the older bridge.
Sarah was screaming. Her airbag had already inflated and deflated quickly and he could not see if she was hurt. He was not afraid – he wanted her to know he would keep her safe.
“We are okay Sarah. It will be just fine. If you’re afraid, close your eyes.” The engine was still running. Finn shifted to first gear and inched forward. He could feel the planks sink under the weight of the car. The rain was battering the windshield, and he could not see past the hood. The side window was not any better. Looking down, he could barely see the edge of the open bridge as it rose and fell with the force of the water surging beneath it.
On the other side of the car, Sarah sat tensed and frightened. Gripping her knot ted scarf like a rosary, she prayed out loud. “Dear God, get us home safely…”
The enginer sputtered and died. Finn turned the key frantically while pressing on the gas peddle. Nothing; it would not start. He pumped the pedal and tried again. “We have to get out of here,” Sarah cried, pulling here seatbelt free. The sound of the bridge breaking muffled her next words.
A rush of water lifted the car like a rubber raft and flipped it over into the creek. The impact shoved Finn against the steering wheel. He watched in horror as his wife was thrown up, then forward. Sarah’s head shattered the windshield, and she fell slumped against the dashboard.
Finn pulled his wife back against the seat. Releasing his own seatbelt, he reached over Sarah and let the passenger window down. His own door was pinned by the force of the water but he knew that it would open if he let his window down to allow water inside to equalize the pressure on the door. He pushed the window button but it was jammed from the impact with the truck. He tried the door again but it was still jammed tight. He became frantic when he thought of his unconscious wife next to him. He pushed himself up and away from the steering wheel and pushed Sarah through the passenger window and was swimming after her when a section of the bridge lumber was thrust through the window pinning him to the ceiling of the car.
Submerged to his neck in the frigid water, Finn was crying out for her as he edged his way around the rotting wood and swam to the back seat. The force of the water nearly flattened him against the ceiling. With all the strength he could muster, Finn lunged for the door and missed. “Sarah,” he cried. The word broke apart as a wave of water filled his mouth. Choking and coughing, he fought to regain his breath.
He braced himself against the opposite door and kicked hard, bursting the window. Battered by the raging current, Finn struggled to find Sarah in the muddy water. While he searched he was tossed and whipped though the cresting water like a tilt-a-wheel run amok. He saw as one end of her yellow scarf fluttered above the torrent in the distance. It hung momentarily in the wind, and then fell wet and limp into the mist as the current took it around the bend.
He attacked the creek like a madman, his strokes digging faster than he had ever swum in his professional life. He saw the scarf again, to his left, still further. He swam faster but it seemed that he could never make up the distance. When it seemed he would die himself he was finally within reach. She had been in the water for over two minutes when he grabbed her scarf. He pulled it up and the other end fluttered in the wind.
“SARAH!” He screamed with an agony that he never knew could exist.
Panic rose in his chest. He grabbed at a dark shape passing to his left. It was a dead cow. He dug his fingers into its hide, and then moved his grip to its foreleg, pulling himself up on his elbows to see over the debris that covered the creek. He held the cow tight as the lifeless body as they were pushed down the heaving creek. At anotherbend, the cow crashed into the bank with such force it spun into a strand of half-submerged trees and lodged between two trunks.
He scrambled onto a log and looked downstream. He saw violent waters but nothing that might be his wife. He pushed away from the log and began to swim with the current so that he knew he was farther downstream than his wife could have been carried. He searched from side to side as he swam and finally he took a position where the creek had narrowed. He waited – and he cried.
* * * * *
Chapter one (Singapore, present day, three years after Sarah's death).
It was early morning, and it was raining when Finn finally got home. He shut the door quietly so that he did not wake his roommates. He went to the large American refrigerator and stacked four clinking bottles of Tiger beer into a cradled arm. He did not want to make anotherover away from the patio and into the warm rain of the northeast monsoon season.
From the high vantage point in the luxurious apartment that he could never afford to live in by himself, he could see over the southern part of the city to the harbor where he could just make out his three new gunboats. The 50 caliber guns were not visible. They were locked up in the operations shed with the assorted personal weapons of his 22 dangerous hired hands, and there were other more exotic weapons hidden in a false bottom in the floor of a supply closet. The O’Connor Security Force was not allowed to mount the big guns until their boats were out past the man-of-war anchorage. That was the agreement that he had won from the Singaporean government and it had been a hard fought battle.
He could see down on the building just across the boulevard. The architect had imported Sakura trees from Japan and planted them on the rooftop. Finn knew how delicate the trees were and it was amazing that they could survive at all. The trees would not show their delicate white flowers until the end of April but still, the web of branches stood out as a beautiful relief over the impressive landscaping. He did not know of any city in the world where developers competed even over the beauty of the rooftops.
When the rain slowed to a sprinkle, he heard the door open. He knew it was Kade, and he knew she would be naked. The graceful Asian girl put her chin on his shoulder. “How was your day?”
He chuckled when he felt her hard nipples through the back of his shirt.
“You know that its not really exhibitionism if nobody can see you.”
“Somebody might be looking at me through one of those telescopes,” she whispered and he knew she believed it.
The tense knot s in his shoulders relaxed at the sound of her voice. “I tried not to wake you.”
“You did not wake me; Mia keeps kicking me so I’m sleeping in your bed.”
“Kick her back.”
“How do you call it, domestic abuse?” She giggled.
“Go get your brush,” he said quietly.
She padded off to her bedroom. Finn followed her inside and smiled at her slim naked body. She reappeared in an instant with her brush and a large towel for Finn to sit on. She sat on the edge of the sofa with her back to him. He sank his fingers in her long hair; black like an onyx. He put the back of his fingers against her neck and slowly pulled the brush down through her silky hair to meet his fingers and fall smoothly to the middle of her back. She tilted her head and he kissed her neck just below her ear as he always did when he brushed her hair. Her finger traced the figure of a heart on his knee.
“Ricky called; he wants you to call him back when you came home.”
“I already talked to him. My car would not start so he dropped me off.” He said, still brushing her hair. “I’m going to Penang for the weekend. I need to transport some weapons to the North office.”
“I know a sweet girl in Penang. You should meet her. I can call her if you like.” Her voice was hopeful.
He shrugged his shoulders and she knew not to press the issue.
“I will be home at lunch,” she said. “If I don’t see you, have fun up there.” She leaned back and pressed her back to his chest. “Be careful.”
Finn could hear Mia bumping around in her bedroom. It was nearly midnight and she would dance tonight. She did not come from money. She worked hard at university and needed a high-paying job that took the least time from her studies. She was not proud of her job but she never gave private dances.
Kade pushed herself up with a hand on his knee, “Mia is awake.” She went to Mia and left him alone with his thoughts and memories.
They had lived together for over two years. He adored his roommates and he knew they loved him just as much.
The rain was falling harder when he took two more beers outside.
The warm November rains of Singapore would fall steadily until the New Year. He twisted the top of a bottle open and took a long drink as the light rain fell on his face. He wished he could be punished by the smell a Texas rain; a fresh rain after a dry spell. He tilted his head up and waited for the heavy drops to pelt him into memories of Sarah.
* * * * *
It was a hot and humid morning in Singapore when Finn woke from the constant dream. He rolled out of bed in boxers and socks. He easily identified the dull throbbing headache with the early morning beers but it took a moment to connect the purple blotch under his arm with a vicious knee from Mia’s fitful sleep. He didn’t like to sleep alone so he had crawled into bed with Mia. She welcomed him by unconsciously throwing a lanky leg over his.
With his torso hunched over, parallel with the floor, he pressed his head tight with his hands as he shuffled to the kitchen where he anticipated a nice cold drink. He looked around with a dizzy pivot of his body and settled his eyes on the told you so smiles of the twins who were not really twins at all. Mia and Kade looked enough alike that he began to kid them by calling them twins some two years earlier.
“What time did he go to bed?” Kade asked Mia.
“Just after midnight - after the rain.”
“Looks like you emptied the refrigerator, Finn.” Kade said, smiling at the empties scattered about the living room.
“So you d-deserve that hangover,” Mia chimed in with the stutter that Finn so adored.
Still bent over, Finn put his hands on his hips, mocking her. “So you deserve that hangover,” he mimicked in a high pitched whine, without the stutter.
Mia frowned like a spoiled kid.
“Mia bought our tickets.” Kade announced.
“Oh God,” Finn groaned.
Mia’s large expressive eyes flashed; so sexy on her small face, and her body went rigid for an instant before she stalked to her room.
Kade walked to Finn as her eyes followed Mia over her shoulder. “What the hell, Finn. This really means a lot to her. Why don’t you just stick a knife in her chest?”
“I just don’t see the point in all this. So you go to the states and get married and then you come back to Singapore and nobody can know about it? It just doesn’t seem worth all the effort?”
“This is for her, so we are all going to do it. It is just three days and you will have fun or I will beat the crap out of you.”
“San Francisco isn’t the only place that you can get married. We don’t know anybody in ‘Frisco so how about San Diego? I have lots of friends there and they will make sure we have a blast; why not do it there?” Finn was almost pleading. “Anywhere but San Francisco, I hate that place. Those people think the universe revolves around them.”
Kade grabbed Finn by the bicep hard, and pulled his forehead to hers. “She bought the tickets already and we will be married in San Francisco,” She hissed, “so you will smile and make her happy.”
“Look, if it is about the tickets, I will pay for connecting flights to San Diego or even L.A.”
“Finn, drop it!”
“I will even upgrade us to First Class!” he called as she walked into the girl’s room. Both girls returned after only a moment, and they were carrying on as if nothing had happened.
Finn executed a careful but luxurious stretch and yawn. After he subtracted eight minutes from the huge Cheshire cat clock on the kitchen wall, he determined that he had enough time to make coffee before getting ready.
“Why has this clock always been eight minutes fast? Are we all that lazy?”
He staggered over and discovered an empty coffee tin that had bought just two days ago. He held up the empty tin and lid and shook it at the girls.
“Ha!” Mia barked.
He could not help but smile. He was the only one that bought coffee and he needed caffeine in a bad way. He was sure that there was no hope in the fridge, but he had to check. He opened the door. The box of Coca Cola that he bought from the military post only two days before was now empty. Only Kade would be thoughtless enough to leave a cardboard skeleton in the fridge. He held up the empty box and displayed it to the girls. “You guys drank all this too?”
“Ha! Ha!” Mia laughed again from her room.
He lifted a can from the counter that had weight and chugged it. It was as hot and flat as Singapore and did nothing to help his hangover. He stifled a retch.
“Damn it, Mia,” he growled, “get your little butt in here.” his voice rose with each syllable.
He knew she was the soda pop poacher, Kade did not like Cola. Kade was likely the main coffee culprit as well, but he knew that Mia raided the coffee tin also.
He caught his breath when Mia came around the corner milking the guilty little girl act. She was naked except for one of his shirts that barely covered her bottom. Her hair was as inky black and luxurious as Kade’s, but her restless sleep had left it in lovely tangles.
“I need caffeine and you girls drank everything. Will one of you please go downstairs and get some drinks?” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but it was done. “Get me a couple Commando Bears. I need a jump start. Get the big cans.” He spoke over his shoulder as he walked to the shower.
You are yelling at us fffor that?” Mia stamped her tiny foot. “Get it yourself j-j-jerk.” she turned her face away and her angry glare turned to a beaming smile for Kade. They loved to get his blood pressure up.
Finn turned around and almost lit into her but he steadied his voice, “Listen pretties, I always buy drinks and I do more than my part around here. I had a rough night and I do not have time to shop this morning. Also, I made breakfast yesterday so it is Mia’s turn today.
“Finn, you do not have to be a loud b-bully so early in the morning,” Mia said, “today is my day to sleep in, you stupid.”
Finn recognized a problem that completely changed his behavior.
“I’m so sorry, Mia, sweetie. I forgot you were sleeping in,” His voice changed suddenly to sudden concern, “You are absolutely right. I was inconsiderate. Give me a minute and I’ll go down. What would you girls like?”
Mia looked at Finn as if deciding how to respond to his sudden sappy, caring tone, then she came to him and traced a small heart on his chest with her finger and put an invisible X in the center – a kiss.
“He wants your car.” Kade announced.
“What the hell are you talking about Kade?” Finn cried. “Here you go again, every day causing trouble.”
“He wants your car later to carry all his big guns to the airport, that is why he is acting all nice.” Kade said with a sly smile, “Watch, he will ask us to pick it up later at the airport.”
Mia cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him.
“He wants your car.” Kade laughed, with her hands on her hips.
“Shut up Kade! One phone call and one of my guys will be on the way up here, you big stupid!”
“See, he wants your car.” She pushed her chest out against her tight shirt and stuck her tongue out at him.
“Damn it, Kade…” He did not know what else to say so he stared her down until he could not resist a smile.
Chapter Two
Finn parked Mia’s car next to a small charter plane.
“See, he wants your car.” She pushed her chest out against her tight shirt and stuck her tongue out at him.
Mace Shirley was the first of the Special Forces to arrive and he flew straight to Penang, bypassing a visit with Finn in Singapore. Finn had made too many apologies and excuses for the condition of the Penang office and Mace was not going to waste this chance to perform some magic in Penang before his friend arrived. Mace was a bear of a man and he was his best friend. When Finn decided on the location for the Northern office worried about the distance that the crew boats would have to travel to embark the Special Forces on their client ships. It would have been a closer trip for the crew boats if they were stationed across the Strait in Indonesia but it was suicidal for men in his business to try to set up housekeeping in Indonesia with such a strong unfriendly Muslim population.
It would not do to have all of his men vying to be stationed in one location and Penang was ideal for the single men with visions of pretty locals and tourists on lovely beaches with swaying palm trees and crystal clear blue waters.
The pilot was onboard going through his preflight checklist, Finn had determined how to operate the latches to the aircraft’s outer storage hatches and stowed his weapon cases. When he was happy that everything was secure and strapped in, he shut the doors and latched the fuselage doors.
He climbed aboard and made himself comfortable and was considering how best to con the pilot into letting him take the flight controls when he realized that he had stowed his flight logbook in one of the rifle cases. He excused himself and when the storage compartment slowly opened on its hydraulic lift he was mortified to discover that thousands of dollars of his company’s initial investment in weapons had disappeared. A quick scan of the immediate area identified the thieves.
Three small skinny men were in a clumsy sprint with Finn’s property bouncing between them like rigid marionettes unsure of their strings. They were nearly halfway to their goal, surely the blue Mercedes parked with its nose showing from the opposite side of the hangar wall.
At their distance he would never catch up to them on foot, but Mia’s car was still parked just ten yards from the aircraft. He had the keys in one hand and his 9mm in the other. He shoved a 15 round magazine home before shoving it into the back of his waist band.
Finn was quickly bearing down on the scruffy thieves when the blue Mercedes turned away, leaving their thieves and their booty behind. He put his weak shooting hand out of his window and fired three shots. One round found its target as sunlight flashed on the silver aluminum curling up as the bullet traveled up the trunk and burst through the rear window. The Mercedes turned quickly as it passed the corner of the hangar and Finn turned his attention to the recovery of his weapons.
He caught up with the thieves quickly and at forty miles an hour he slammed on the brakes just inside the hangar. He jerked the steering wheel and jammed on the accelerator, power braking to the left. The maneuver placed his car as a blockade between himself and the thieves. The resulting rubber smoke from the tires gave him enough of a smokescreen to exit his car and sprint to the hangar side entrance where he slid into a defensive position.
He did not know if they would wait for the rubber smoke to clear before firing, or if they would wait for him to make the first move but when everything settled, he saw his weapon cases abandoned in the middle of the hangar. The building appeared empty, there was nowhere to hide.
He opened the door and dropped into a sprawl, partially shielded by the front tire. One of the men, obviously and amateur, stood and fired on Mia’s car from less than forty feet. He missed his huge target. Finn decided to defend his four wheeled companion and fired from beneath the car and placed a bullet in the assailant’s knee. The man dropped in a screaming heap.
That shot flushed out two others that made a run for the opposite exit, firing their handguns over their shoulders with their heads turned away as if it were the first time they had ever taken a shot.
His own sense of right and wrong was strong. He evaluated the situation and knew that the right thing to do was to let the men escape. As they neared the exit, he stood and planted a slug in each of their asses. They took flight as they exited the hangar, their bodies in a backwards arch as they clutched their posteriors. He let them escape after all.
He kept his weapon trained on the remaining thief and slowly approached.
“Please. I hurt bad.” the man struggled in Singlish
He kicked the man’s handgun further out of reach and ordered him spread eagle. With a knee in the man’s back, Finn searched him carefully.
“Please sir. Sorry. Help.”
“Yeah, bone fractures suck. Is this your first?” he spoke friendly, as if they were strangers put together at a picnic by lottery.
The man did not understand the direction this conversation was headed but he was terrified of the muscular man towering over him.
“That bullet wound, is that your first?”
“No. Shot in stomach before.”
“Now a shot in the stomach, that hurts. Your knee does not hurt nearly as bad as that gut shot does it?”
“Please call help, please sir.”
“I have been shot and you can’t lay there and tell me that the knee doesn’t hurt more than the stomach. Which hurts more, the stomach or knee?”
“Stomach was much worse. Almost die. Hospital many months.”
“Damn right, me too!” he sat cross-legged next to the thief and used his hands to try to pop his neck.
“Hey, you know what is worse than a gut shot? A damn kidney stone! Holy crap, you do not want one of those. Stay hydrated man, that is the trick,”
He lifted his hand over his head and jabbed a pointed finger down at his friend with a neutral warning. “And you should never drink Mountain Dew. I know a guy that drank that stuff all day long, that is all he drank. Always had kidney stones but he would not stop drinking that stuff.”
The thief was not certain of anything – He did not know what Mountain Dew was – He was still alive, but this strange man would not stop talking.
“Right Bandito, who sent you guys?”
“We get money to steal boxes. We paid by man in Mercedes. I not know who man is.”
He had to look away when he jammed his boot into the man’s knee.
“It true!" he screamed. "Not know man! He pay us S400 to get box when airplane door close.”
Finn was a student of human nature under these conditions and he knew when a man was truthful. Somebody tipped off these thieves that he was carrying expensive weapons and it was obvious that Bandito did not know who it was. For now, he had a pilot ready to line up on the runway numbers and get airborne.
“Okay, I’ll call for help.”
He slowly walked around and inspected his cases and the seals had not been tampered with. He was satisfied that he could load them into the back of the car and return to the aircraft
Somebody knew that there was expensive equipment in these cases and he wished he had caught the Mercedes license plate number. He would surely like to spend some quality time with those fellows. Soon enough everything was back in place onboard the aircraft.
He knew he could not leave Mia’s car at the airport. Two guys with bullet holes in their ass would beat the hell out of Mia’s car if he left it there, so after stopping at a payphone to call an ambulance, he made a quick trip back to the loft to swap Mia’s car for his motorcycle.
The three men were not local. They had brought another world to Singapore.
Finn loved his new island home, easily the cleanest and safest city in the world and when he thought of the violence and anger only twenty miles across the water in Indonesia he shuddered at the possibilities.
During the flight to Penang, he reflected on his behavior and recognized that he was probably a little aggressive back there. In a commando team he operated under executive authority, but here in his new home he reckoned he ought not to be running around shooting people in the ass.
Chapter Three (Penang)
Finn thanked the pilot and stepped down from the aircraft into the blanket of heat that lay over the runway tarmac. Penang was not far enough north of Singapore to make any noticeable change in the smothering humidity that Finn swore that he would never get used to. The locals never seemed to make their shirts wet with sweat.
Finn remembered when he recruited anotherof the staff officers to run the circumference of the Singapore. By using a taxi to pick them up and drop them at their stopping points it took three nights to run around the island. If they had tried to run during the day, the heavy oppressive humidity would have dropped them in minutes. Even at night, they were drenched in sweat before they even started.
As he began to pull his weapon cases from the aircraft, a small Malaysian man jumped to his side to help.
“My name Chet, I help you.” He announced in fair Singlish.
“Well okay Mr. Chet. I appreciate that.” Finn smiled.
“Mr.O’Connor sir, I take you to Georgetown.” He announced in fair Singlish. “Mr. Pete tell me to bring you to restaurant near Fort Cornwalis.” Finn nodded his agreement to Chet who was looking at him in his rearview mirror.
“I drive car and boat, sir. The boats are very nice and have strong engines.”
“That’s great,” Finn did not want to be rude but he was not in the mood for small talk. He acted impressed as he looked into the mirror.
“You want anything in Penang, you ask me. I get anything for you sir.”
“No thank you.” He rolled his eyes and let out an impertinent laugh. “Just drive, little buddy.” Finn was notinterested in the veiled offers for “anything”.
The smile disappeared from the young man’s face. He knew a scoff in any language and he did not know what he said to upset his new employer.
The heat was just as harsh in Penang but Finn sensed a definite relaxed mood only found in tropical destinations. Happy sunburned coconut-scented faces crowned with sun kissed hair cheered him instantly. Chet adjusted his mirror slightly so that he could watch the stern face in his backseat soften with each mile. Finn’s knee started to bounce happily and intensified as they neared the beach.
* * * * *
The OSF had a temporary lease for a small office and pier space for his three gunboats in the only remains of the old Swettenham Pier that wasn't destroyed for construction of modern piers that would be able to berth two Queen Elizabeth II- sized cruise ships.
He had an appointment tomorrow with the Penang Port Commission to secure a long-term lease at the north tip of the new pier. He was sure that he could convince port management that the mere presence of a shipping security company would outwardly appear to be an outstanding addition to their own pier security. And he knew that his men would surely love to be so close to many single women who stepped off their cruise ship looking for a short romance.
Just when he thought the trip would never end, the car began to slow for a crosswalk swarmed by passengers from a huge cruise ship.
He saw an old man in a mismatched jogging suit turn to yell at two children across the street. A woman bent down to take their tiny hands in hers and escorted them across the street to their rude guardian.
She was striking. He had always recognized and appreciated beautiful women, but this was different and it was based on sight alone. He was conscious that it was not his nature but now he was faced with an entirely superficial attraction.
His eyes were focused entirely on her, and her movements through the crowd made his car seem to be still. He opened his door and stepped out of the slowly moving car and landed face down in a cloud of dust.
The girl turned with the rest of the crowd to see the man on the ground and then continued on when she saw the man stand and brush himself.
Chet rushed around the car. “Please sir, I will take you to the hospital?”
“No, I’m fine but thank you.” He never lost sight of her. She was moving away and the crowd was dispersing. He thanked the driver quietly with a guilty smile and asked him to inform Mr. Shirley that he would be at the pier later.
She was not walking fast but he wanted to close the distance quickly. He had to talk to her but he did not know what to say. He would simply follow until something came to his scrambled mind.
The woman turned and noticed that the dusty man from the street. He seemed to be in a hurry and suddenly she noticed that his eyes continually focused on her and then ahead of her. The man surely was not coming to her but she decided to test him by walking a figure eight around the shopping stalls and stop at the currency changer.
She had very delicate features and soft light reddish blond hair. To Finn’s eyes she was not simply pretty...nor merely cute (though she was undeniably both of these), but honest-to-goodness, hands down, knock-your-socks-off perfectly and achingly beautiful. He had a pretty good batting average, getting a woman’s initial interest, but this was a one-shot deal – had to be out of the ball park. His mind was whirling with words, weaving spells with his magical syllables.
She stopped along her way to pick up items, and the sales people would alight immediately, urgent to make a sale. Using her peripheral vision, she could see the man lean against a wall or a column each time she stopped. He seemed to be as nervous as she was and she picked up her pace when she saw a small Polis stand.
She was rushing to the Polis and Finn saw an opportunity to perhaps rescue the damsel. He puffed himself up and when he was close to the Polis, he suddenly found himself, once again, face down on his stomach. One of the men had a knee on his neck while anotherwas jerking his arms into handcuffs.
Mace arrived at the plaza in time to see Finn follow a very pretty woman to a Polis Diraja at the front of the plaza. Then he watched as his friend was slammed to the ground and handcuffed. Mace knew Finn was not in real harm and Mace found it all to be pretty humorous. Mace was content to watch his friend try to wriggle and talk his way out of this one.
The pretty girl gravitated to the big American where she felt safe enough to watch the action with a mixture of fear, relief and satisfaction on her face.
“Mace.” He held out his hand.
“Aidan.” She shook his hand without looking up.
When Mace looked down at the beauty he was sure that the woman had something to do with Finn’s predicament. She was striking to be sure but she was young; perhaps too young. She was closer to six feet tall than five but her delicate skin and features could not disguise her youth. He looked away quickly when she looked up.
“So what did he do this time?”
“Do you know that guy?”
“Yeah,” Mace sighed nonchalantly, “He’s my boss – great guy – he is pretty good with the ladies.”
“I guess not.” She thought to leave it at that but offered more. “He was stalking me.”
“Naw, He was probably trying to think of a way to approach you. He will take the loss pretty hard. His driver said that he nearly passed out when he saw a lady; you I presume – jumped out of the damned car while it was still moving.” They stood there, together, absorbed in the drama, as if watching a television show.
“Why don’t you help him if you are such a good friend?”
“He would not help me.” Mace said indignantly. “He would stand here and laugh just like I am.”
As one of the officers move behind Finn, Mace watched the other begin anotherbody search oddly more aggressive than needed.
He bent closer to her ear, conspiratorially, “Do you like magic Aidan? Watch the cash disappear from his wallet.” As Finn was getting a strong pat-down, the other officer lifted and quickly replaced Finn’s wallet. Mace roared with laughter and enjoyed a huge laugh.
Chet had parked the car and had found his way to the ruckus. He saw his boss in custody and recognized a chance to redeem himself from God only knows what he did earlier to piss off his new boss.
“There’s our boat captain; that is Chet,” Mace pointed, “Let’s see if he is going to be of any help.” They never moved from their vantage point; never even moved their feet. They simply turned their torsos and followed the action with their heads.
Chet approached the Polis Diraja carefully with his head bowed and with two business cards extended from hands pressed together as if in prayer. He pleaded with the Polis that the man they held was a respected businessman from Singapore and Malaysia and was also a United States Military Officer stationed in Singapore.
The Polis gave Finn a chance to explain his infatuation with the woman and that he was following her until he could decide how to approach her without embarrassing her or himself. The Polis took the woman aside and described his explanation. She decided that he was harmless and decided to drop the whole thing.
The Polis were happy with that…no paperwork. They returned his wallet and Finn slouched over to Mace and Aidan.
“Aidan, I present to you, Finn O’Connor - your stalker.”
Finn gave him smirk and a screwy indignant nod as if to say “sod off!”
Mace chuckled, waved Chet over, and left.
Aidan gave Finn time to break the ice but she ended up bailing him out.
“Hi Finn, I am Aidan.” She glared.
“Nice to meet you Aidan.” He fidgeted around for a bit too long, and then lowered his voice into what he thought to be a slow sophisticated tone. “Hey look, I am really sorry about all that. I did not mean to scare you. I saw you shopping and I did not want to interrupt you so I was just waiting until you finished you know, that’s all.”
“Oh. Sure, I understand. I over-reacted.” She said sarcastically, “I’m a tourist in a foreign country – Mysterious man; you can imagine.”
“Oh yeah, sure, yeah, yeah. No doubt.” He nodded, looking around, casually scratching the back of his neck. He turned back with sudden interest. “Well hey. Are you enjoying the trip?”
“Well, I only arrived today and I already have material for nightmares, so yes, I suppose it has been pretty interesting.”
“Hey,” he started with a happy jump and smile as if nothing happened. “How about dinner tonight?” Before she could answer one way or anotherhe lowered his head and looked up at her. “Going to be real fun. Lots of famous people.”
She giggled “There aren’t any famous people.”
“Nope, but I do impressions,” he said.
“You are a very odd person, she smiled, “I will have dinner with you, but you must promise to act normal. I am staying in room 523, at the Eastern & Oriental Hotel. Please come on up and knock on my door at seven.” She had a wicked grin.
“How about you? Where are you staying?”
Finn winced and looked down and left, searching his brain for a nice hotel. “The Yim Kah. It’s a new place near the airport.”
She smiled. “Well I will see you tonight then – room 523 at seven o’clock. I’m looking forward to it.” He decided to leave before he said or did something more stupid. Without brushing off the scuffle with the Polis, he spun and gathered what dignity he had left and swaggered into the sunlight, arms flailing happily, leaving a halo of dust about him as he left.
He found Pete waiting for him outside.
“Score.” Finn said it more to himself but it was loud enough for Pete.
“Bullshit.”
“No bullshit, my friend. At 7pm this very evening I will meet Miss Aidan at the E & O, room 523.”
“Well good for you my dear friend,” Mace laughed. “Wear clean socks.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Mace looked back over his shoulder at the hotel. “You will need to prop the door open with your shoes unless you can find something else.”
Finn knitted his brow. “What the hell are you babbling about?”
”You said she told you to meet her at room 523, right?” Mace laughed. “Well, the Copthorne has only four floors, so you will need something to keep roof door open so that you aren’t locked out.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, the little lady was a bit young.”
“Yeah, maybe a bit young.”
“Definitely too young.”
“How old do you think she is?”
Oh, heck I don’t know Finn.” Mace knew where this was going and he was not going to negotiate her age. “The girl has already shown you the door so to speak.”
They walked in silence for a while. Mace hoped he had not hurt his boss’ feelings but the conversation had become ridiculous.
“Well how old do you think I am?” Finn asked.
“Right now? About twelve or thirteen.”
Chapter Four (Merchant Ship Regina Trader)
Captain Jacob Hughes stepped out onto the forward bridge wing to return a friendly wave from the captain of a passing ship. The American saw that the other ship’s stern light was out, and that light was critical to avoid a bow to stern collision.
"Nice enough fella,” First Mate Simmons commented.
“Yeah, I suppose he is, but I would like him a lot better if he was in his own lane. We almost traded paint and he did not even check his lights before entering the busiest waterway in the world.”
“You ought to let him know Skipper.”
“Yeah, I guess I should.” Hughes groaned as he picked up his mic.
Before he could even lift his radio Simmons pointed out two men leaning over the ship’s stern walkway, likely there to replace the bulb. Hughes nodded and returned his focus to the busy traffic ahead.
The merchant ship Regina Trader had transported rolled steel from Seattle to Darwin, and was now delivering military equipment to the U.S. military pre-positioning station in Singapore.
When the other ship was nearly astern, a black boat on its opposite side slowed and turned to cross the wake and steady below the Trader’s afterdeck. Its silent crewmen threw a grappling hook high and accurate. Thirteen thieves began to muscle their way up ropes in the half-moon light.
Ricky Justice was leaning into the salty mist at the bow of the big ship when he heard a loud clank. He thought it was a good time to make his rounds of the perimeter of the ship so he pulled up the hood of his raincoat and headed aft.
As Ricky turned the corner of the superstructure he saw the intruder only after the man had leveled a shotgun at him. He took the slug in the center of his vest and he was blown back on his heels and fell sixty feet into the Malacca Strait. The impact of the slug took the breath out of him but he was still conscious enough to fight his way to the surface before the polluted water was sucked into his lungs. After the instant it took to diagnose his own situation, he considered the fate of those on the ship he was contracted to protect.
He had to contact the Singapore Coast Guard. He felt under the side of his vest and retrieved a crushed and useless VHF radio. He was certain that the ship’s captain made a distress call immediately after he heard the shotgun blast. Ricky had a long swim ahead of him. He had completed many two mile ocean swims in full uniform, so he knew this swim would be easy without stress of a stopwatch.
After Captain Jacobs made his mayday call he turned to see five filthy men working furiously to breech the simple door latch that accessed bridge.
Jacobs knew that he would not survive if he did not cooperate. He opened the hatch and immediately took a rifle butt into his gut. The leader had black greasy hair that hung in lank tangles about his shoulders. He had the bulging eyes of a fanatic and there was the acrid odor of a long unwashed body about him
“Take anything. Do not harm my crew.” Jacobs spoke slowly pronouncing each syllable carefully. “I will show you to anything of value.”
There was no answer to his plea, yet he had to get through.
“Sir, I beg of you, please let my men go. They are simple men who earn a simple wage to support their innocent children and mothers. They feed their families and their small villages. Our government does not help us so our work is all that feeds our villages,” Jacobs hoped to appeal to any emotion, whether it might be love of family, or a sense of superiority, or even hatred of the government that left the peasant class to fend for themselves..
As the intruders ripped through cabinets and shelves he looked through the aft windows to the decks below and saw that nearly half of his crew was being tied face-to-face to empty wooden pallets. He saw a blade rise high in the air and as it fell the blade flashed in the moonlight.
Jacobs lost all power to hold himself upright. The glass of the window held him up and he felt the butt of a machete in his right ear and his vision blurred as he watched anotherblade fall, sinking into the head of anotherman and traveling deep into his torso. He vomited onto the glass sending it splashing back on to himself and onto his attacker. As he slid down the glass he saw the monster below peel back the flesh and pull on the spine of a man who had only joined the ship’s crew during the last port call. He was a proud young man, giddy with excitement. The Master himself had personally given him a tour of the ship, which was a special treat for the boy. There was a second blow to his head and he blacked out as he watched the blade fall again.
The pirates left a single navigator conscious on the bridge to drive the ship. He was ordered to extinguish all lights except basic required navigational lights until they were clear of the Strait and then they would darken the ship.
The pirate that carried himself as the leader had watched Jacobs face turn to horror at something on the main deck below. He followed the Master’s eyes even as he crumpled before him. The leader of thieves bellowed orders in Chinese but his voice was muted by two panes of glass. He bolted from the bridge and slid down the rails of the ladders. His shouts were muted by the screams of the victims and it was not until he was upon them that his men finally heard his commands. He grabbed the arm just as the blade of a machete was about to drop. The Trader’s crewmen were wailing and begging for their lives. Several were shrieking uncontrollably. What those men had just witnessed was more than some could comprehend. Before the leader could even start to scold them, the ruthless men began to plead their case. They explained that the betting this time was even better than the last. There were twenty-eight of the ship’s crew on deck and if every pirate anteed up, then the purse would be huge for the winner. They could see that their leader was upset but they also knew that he was upset only because he had not been consulted first.
The evil game was set up with a stack of light weight wooden pallets. Four of the ship’s crewmen were strapped to each pallet face-to-face on their knees. The killers had hacked ragged not ches into the wood so that each prisoner’s head was cradled and held in place. The prize was a small cloth bag that each pirate had put $200 Yuan. Taking turns with the same machete; each man lifted the blade high over his head and swung it down. The blade sliced through the victim’s skull, split the wooden slat and continued through the torso. The number of vertebrae split determined the individual score and if the blade veered, then the last vertebrae severed would be the score. Ribs did not count.
Of course the men hoped to win the prize but the real thrill for them was the look of disbelief on the face of the victim’s friend, a mere three inches away when the machete splattered his face with skull and brain matter. To them it was a priceless consolation. The thieves roared with laughter as they watched the eyes wide with terror as the brain’s internal carotid exploded across his face causing even the toughest man to scream in hysterics. The pirates were also covered with blood, brain tissue, bone and cartilage but they enjoyed the game so much that it did not matter.
It was always a special time when their leader took his turn. The unbathed man had a deep scar across his nose and his teeth had rotted away behind the front six teeth. The yellow smile with the missing back teeth made him look as horrific as he behaved.
He took the machete as the rest giggled with anticipation. His men ensured that there would be a live victim across from his victim – his target. He walked slowly around the man, eying him from all angles, and then took position behind him. He grabbed the hilt of the blade and, taking a firm stance; he raised the blade and pulled it down with all of his might.
His cut was straight and true and his men cheered and congratulated him. He was normally a dismal failure with the blade but this was a superb effort. Two of the others quickly pounced on the quivering body and pulled the flesh back to count the vertebrae. They were almost afraid to give him the bad news. His victim suffered scoliosis and, though his cut was straight, his count was only six.
But the man was used to losing and simply smiled and shrugged it off. The other men giggled nervously as they gathered around to watch his final act. He took a knife from his belt and pulled the still twitching head back so that it was looking up at them with a grotesque smile. He turned the blade in the moonlight before the other man’s eyes and then turned the blade back to the dead man. He pushed and dug the knife into the soft cartilage of the interior eye socket and quickly had the eye in his hand. He pulled slowly until the optic nerve popped. He released the head and very slowly and turned and lowered his face within an inch of the desperate witness. He moved his face, screwing it right and left, until his foul breath filled the living man’s nostrils. He continued to taunt the pitiful man who was already at the brink of psychological failure.
He put the eye in his teeth and held it there for several seconds. The crewman, insane with a ghastly grin on his face, stared into the eye. The killer bit down hard, popping the membrane and sending the vitreous fluid over the crewman’s face and into his own mouth. His men laughed hysterically and hurrahed and congratulated their leader for anotheroutstanding performance.
In a smooth operation, the gang had taken control of the bridge and killed the entire crew in a demonic death game. The pirates dragged the dead to the scuppers, placed them in trash bags, weighted the bodies and dumped them in the warm South China Sea. The ship was left floundering just south of Anthony pass. The mystery of the vanished crewmembers was solved weeks later when six of the thirty mutilated corpses were dredged up in a trawler nets.