JonDLundyn 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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