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Lundyn Parker's greatest adventures - by JonD

Lundyn Parker and his best mate Roscoe Tanner are a couple of Aussie knock about types. During their incredible adventures they will, fight, root, eat and save society and the even the world from horrors unimiaginable. Loveable rogues but as tough as the land that bred them.

[ March 2007 ] [ May 2007 ]

Lundyn Parker's greatest adventures - April 2007

Lundyn parker # 2 18/2

April 25th 2007 08:31

They went down into the holds along the tunnels that ran under the deck, where seamen could move safely as the giant of the seas ran through storms that washed huge green waves over her hull burying everything except the accommodation wing and the bridge deck. Being so long the ship was built to flex with the waves and her decks needed to be checked continuously from underneath as well as her double hull.

Down the ladders and finally into the side ballast tanks where the explosives had been set. The Ocean King was such an advanced ship that the owners and builders claimed she was ‘next generation’. She had an in-built communication system that monitored everything from her position to every single engine revolution back to the home office. Here it was all held on record on the company computers. Every single move she made, was known by the company. Even the meals consumed by the crew. The on board cameras and monitoring system was also how the navy, SAS and Airforce could foretell a lot of the movements of the terrorists. Not all though, as a lot of the obvious cameras had been put out of action as soon as they were discovered, but enough to still cover a lot of the ship and the activities on board.

“I think I have seen everything I need to,” said Lundyn to the general. “Have you been able to get anything on the phone from your mates?” The general shook his head and looked over at Lundyn, “they only know its Ramid Ben-Artim and he is or was, on some sort of charter boat. He has his own skipper and some rough neck crew. Where he is we have no particular idea. If ASIO can’t find him even with the help of Yank satellites we may be up against a brick wall.”

“Maybe not,” Said Lundyn, “lets go up top and make some calls.”

Once back out on the main deck, Lundyn started placing calls. He was calling mates, a loose network of mates and guys working on fishing boats. Mostly ex navy and they in turn put the word out among their mates and so it went on. It was three hours later, while the men were ensconced in a small corner of the huge bridge of the ship that he took a call from Des Rawlings from ANSWERS, the amalgamated volunteer rescue service for the Australian coast. One of Des’s volunteers had seen a charter fishing boat anchored for the last week in a small cove off a deserted Barrier Reef island. Peculiar, mainly in the fact that it was staying anchored in a no fishing zone during the hottest time for marlin fishing known on the reef. The crew, also were not the fun loving beer drinking types that hire out these charter boats. They kept quiet, to themselves and out of site. “Bingo” thought Lundyn, to his pals he said, “c’mon, we got some checking to do.”

As they were swinging over the side of the ship to slide back down to the Seawind, Lundyn gave Shorty a covert thumbs up to which he replied with a frown and a nod. “Bloody nosy Parker, typical, the whole country is looking for this head honcho terrorist and it looks like he has him tracked down in less than half a day.” He switched on his lapel mike and spoke to his boss. “Parker looks like he might be on the trail”.

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Lundyn parker # 2 18

April 24th 2007 08:31

Chapter 18

Lundyn dropped the Seawind onto the water in the lee of the Ocean King. He had negotiated a clearance from air traffic control to be on site as the insurance surveyor. This was a coup for his one man business but his interest went beyond the ship and the damage it had sustained. Somewhere out on the Coral Sea was the last of the terrorist gang. The ship would have had some contact with their leader and it was Lundyn’s hope that some clue would be available to put him and his pals on the track. They had flown all the way up the coast, almost fifteen hundred miles and were hoping for some sort of action.

Tethering the Seawind to the hull of the ship Lundyn and his mates worked their way along the hull to the ropes left dangling by the now long departed clearance divers. Climbing hand over hand he, Roscoe and the general made their way up the hull. Looking down at them was a man in a light grey suit. He wore a bright Hawaiian shirt under the tailored suit which made him look like some kind of well dressed beach bum. He was the ASIO man now on board to try and make some sense from the mess.

“Parker! You nosy bastard. Why am I not surprised to see you?” He leaned out to give the general a hand over the rail. “Are you the insurance man we are waiting for or are you here on behalf of the general’s mates?”
The general looked quizzically at the man, wondering how their cover had been blown so easily.
Lundyn saw the look and patted the general on the shoulder, “don’t worry general, this guy is ASIO he was my boss when I was in the navy. G’day Shorty. We are on insurance business but if there is the tiniest chance of any ‘wet work’ we are up to it.”

“By ‘wet’ of course you don’t mean what the Russians meant by that in 007 novels do you? You are talking about under water camera work. Your famous for it these days.” Shorty looked around to see if any of the personnel on board had heard the inference. “Look mate we are going to be tied up here for days sorting this lot out. We have the surviving terrorists in hand but they are not cooperating. We know their boss is around somewhere but we can’t get a handle on him.”

“So what is the score?” Lundyn asked, “do you guys want to question him?”
“Nope” said Shorty, “we don’t need him, we don’t want the publicity and we don’t want a martyr. Even the very top level has said to be as rough as we need to be. This guy is due a very short life span. But we just aren’t getting anywhere.”
“Well,” grinned Lundyn, “we have a job to do for the insurance company then we might see what we can do. We sure are pissed about what this guy has done to our country. We would just love to run in to him!”

Shorty looked at the three men and saw two mean arsed men in their mid thirties. Lithe athletes and Lundyn he knew, was a trained killer with almost any weapon he could lay his hands on, (if he could be bothered to use a weapon,) and his mate Roscoe looked like the kind of guy you would hire to frighten Hells Angels at their annual convention. His dossier said he wore ladies underwear. He personally would not be game to ask Roscoe if this was true. The older man, with short trimmed hair and wire rimmed glasses looked mild. He was Pale skinned with wrinkles covering his face but his movements were not stiff jointed like an old man. Economical and no nonsense decided Shorty. He had read their dossiers and knew of the general through these. A man, who had trained anti communists in Malaya, fought the Chinese and North Koreans through the mud and snow and was a martial arts expert in three unarmed disciplines as well as an expert with ancient Japanese lances and Spanish knives. He thought the SAS and clearance divers had been the toughest guys on this ship. Perhaps his former diver and his pals might just be a bit worse!
“Well Parker, you and your mates do what you need to and don’t get in anyone’s way. Then bugger off and play cowboys and Indians if you need to. And if it suits you let me know how it turns out.”

Lundyn nodded to Shorty, took a camera he had slung around his neck and started to fire off shots of the boat. Though not entirely familiar with Lundyn’s work, the general and Roscoe tagged along looking every bit like part of the insurance survey team. Their eyes took in the shell cases
Lying on the deck, the pools of blood congealing where the terrorists had leaked out their lives to the cold steel blades of the clearance divers, F118 cannon and the SAS bullets. The RIBs were of interest, large twenty man jobs with huge double mounted out-boards. Each had held a cadre of terrorists and arms. Enough for a small army but now they were defeated. Almost!

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Lundyn parker # 2 17/4

April 23rd 2007 08:35

The Royal Australian Navy clearance divers disappeared back over the side of the ship as quickly as the smoke from their grenades cleared. Without fuss they retrieved their now empty air tanks and gas axes and made their way back to their ship which was waiting out of visual site over the horizon. For these men it was a five mile swim, though some of the inflatable canoes could be used to carry a lot of the gear. Like their SAS companions, these men kept their identities very close to their chests. Nobody could recognise them in the street and even family only knew they were navy boys. Quiet as hunting sharks they finned their way across the sea.

The SAS were also quickly off the scene without bothering to clean up their mess. The prisoners were handed over to the Commonwealth Police who now appeared by helicopter drop as well. A boat was on its way to clear up the bodies and the captain and crew, were also being lifted from the ship. The owners had a second crew coming on board to work with the tugs and repair crew who had to weld up the holes, that the clearance divers had cut in the hull. Police divers were also clearing out the remnants of the explosives. The ship was likely to be afloat and piloted out of the reef within days.

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Lundyn 17/2 #2

April 18th 2007 07:54

Without a word the leader of the SAS troop, a lanky freckled faced lieutenant nodded his head toward the snipers. In a split millisecond the trigger was pulled and a special jacketed bullet passed through the shoulder muscles of the skipper, damaging him but not killing him. The bullet continued on its path without a pause and entered Ali’s body through the rib cage. Here it recognised the second entry it had made and exploded inside Ali’s chest. Ali had no time to say his prayers and his guaranteed path to heaven was perhaps not so positive now. The skipper started to topple forward but two troopers were already rushing the bridge wing to assist him and the medical trooper was preparing his syringe and calling in the chopper for the evacuation. Ali was paste and strawberry jam from the waist up. The bullet however had not done any damage to his face which still contained the look of rage with which this terrorist had faced the world.

Ramid Ben-Artim had lost his best friend and ally and would now have to face the world with nothing but a lightly armed charter fishing cruiser and a hand full of loyal men.
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Lundyn 17/2 #2

April 17th 2007 07:54

The six RAAF F188s again barrelled past the Ocean King but they only drew two missiles. They turned in unison and after doing a long turn high above the ship they soared in, in single file firing their cannon at the deck of the ship. The crew of terrorists scattered with two cut in half by the first pass. They were looking for any kind of cover they could find as they gazed at the departing planes. At the moment that the last plane flew out of site two Sea King helicopters soared over the edge of the ship to a height of twenty metres, firing off a chatter of machine guns with red tracers bouncing like fire crackers off the deck. Suddenly four ropes dropped and SAS troopers wearing body armour, special vision helmets, their automatic weapons draped across their bodies rappelled down the lines.

As the terrorists were turning to meet this attack, the first of the Royal Australian Navy clearance divers lobbed smoke grenades to the deck of the ship. The coloured smoke instantly blocked the vision of the terrorists from the SAS troopers so each man from the four choppers that had now made their appearance, made it to the deck without harm. With nothing but their dive knives the clearance divers entered the smoke, wearing masks and small tubes containing two and a half minutes air. For many of the terrorists their last vision on earth was a black wet-suited figure emerging like some kind of ethereal monster from the smoke, slashing a knife across their throat. Each diver took out at least one man and by the time the smoke cleared twelve terrorists lay on the deck, face up with huge a huge gash across his throat gurgling out the last of his life on the steel deck.
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Lundyn 17 #2

April 16th 2007 07:54

[[SIZE=5]COLOR=Fuchsia]Chapter 17

Admiral James Kirkam was on board the Royal Australian Navy’s attack ship closest to the action. He was technically not in charge but he could not help feeling that he was. It was the Navy that seemed to be taking the risks at this point. The RAAF had been and made their diversionary raid, the trained negotiators were keeping up a constant barrage of phone calls to Ali (which he was avoiding) and his team of clearance divers were risking their arses inside the hull. But so far everything was going to plan. Almost far too easy. The next stage of the attack was going into place from this ship and one other slightly over the horizon. As soon as his men had cleared the ship and set charges against the four drives of the ship, to assure that she would not go anywhere without the navy having control, there would be a full blown attack on the ship. This would be by airborne SAS troopers dropping from choppers to the deck of the ship. God how he prayed that his men had done their job! If the terrorists decided to let the bombs go off during the SAS raid and the bombs were not properly defused, there would be a catastrophe. But he need not have worried. The ship, as far as the clearance divers were concerned was “clean”. The divers had gathered their gear and were now waiting below the turn of the hull for the action to start

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Lundyn 16 #3

April 15th 2007 07:54

Four of the divers were under the hull cutting. The whole of the dive team were under the flare of the hull so unless the crew had reflecting mirrors they could not see them. The fly boys were keeping the crew busy looking at the sky while the holes in the hull were being prepared. Two of the divers were in the tunnel of the huge bow thruster. From here they were opening into the between hull spaces. At the stern of the boat another two men were cutting in either side of the bottom, just forward of the four huge drives. These were mounted on swivels and could rotate through three hundred and sixty degrees. There was no prop shaft and propellers on this ship. This new technology meant that each pod could operate independently and in any direction chosen by the skipper. Just forward of this the bottom of the hull curved out and down to the actual bottom of the ship. It was this section that the two divers were cutting in to.

The whole ship was built double hulled, a demand by the International maritime Organisation to avoid accidental breaching of the hull allowing the oil to disperse. Once inside this section of the hull the men again had to cut into the bottom of the second skin to make an opening into the huge ballast tanks that ran down each side of the ship. These tanks were full of sea water and it was in these tanks that the explosives would be. Each ballast tank as well as the double hull was braced with metal sheets running transverse to the hull. Each sheet had Lightening holes cut through them to lighten the sheet and being round or elliptical also added to the strength of each piece. Each hole was two metres round so it was an easy thing to swim through. The men’s tanks were covered in rubber, as was most of their kit to avoid noise of metal striking on metal and making noise which would be easily heard through the medium of salt water.
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Lundyn 16 #2

April 7th 2007 08:06

Along side the Ocean King , 20 pairs of rubber ins kicked lazily to keep station alongside with the tide. The rubber boats the men had paddled in were tied to a piece of coral and two of the men were working at slitting the air pockets of the canoes to sink them. Each canoe still contained spare air bottles for each man and spare fuel for the gas axes. Highly efficient underwater cutting gear, light weight and quick to operate and easy to handle. The boys from the airforce were now what the divers were waiting for. A little diversion was due to start in a couple of minutes to allow the men time to light up their cutting instruments and get into the hull.

Two RAAF F118s came roaring out of the rising sun and cracked the sound barrier directly over the tanker. The sonic boom was the signal for the clearance divers to start their work. For the next twenty minutes the RAAF would fly annoying sorties over the tanker to keep the crew looking to the sky rather than over the side to the water where the cutting was happening. Each pair of RAAF fighters, there was six of them, roared across the tanker letting the sonic boom linger no more than a few seconds between passes. Then they came in single passes, not to break the sound barrier but to tempt a few shots from the crew. A few of the crew obliged by firing off their AK 47s but no damage was done. The heat seeking missiles were being prepared on board and it was only a matter of Ali’s command and the firing would commence.
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