Scorpion's Reach, page 15
Hene had offered to drive, but he was a ‘rookie’ and Sam loved getting behind the wheel. She’d ‘pulled rank’ and insisted on driving.
“Not sure what to make of it!” Hene was shaking his head. “What do you think?”
“Truth?” she asked. “I don’t have a bloody clue!”
They drove on in silence for a couple of seconds. “One thing is for sure though, these folks play by a whole different set of rules.” She added, “and I don’t particularly want to find out the ‘hard way’ , know what I mean?” She chanced a glance over at the rookie.
“I think they’re making them up as they go!” Hene replied, sounding almost envious. “Then again,” he began, he didn’t have time to finish.
From out of nowhere, a black shadow came at them from Hene’s side, slamming into them with enough force to push them off the road.
The airbags deployed almost instantly. They were the only things that prevented them from getting seriously hurt.
The brunt of the impact wasn’t on the passenger door, but just a little forward. Ripping the front left wing clean off the car. Twisting the axle and shattering, the engine mounts. The safety cage, however, mostly held firm with only slight buckling round the doors.
Sam had caught a glance as she turned to look at Hene. Not enough to prevent it, but enough to react instinctively. Pulling the wheel hard right and hitting the brakes as hard as she could, she grabbed the handbrake and pulled as hard as she could. The car brakes screamed in protest as it skewed towards the ditch. Better that than into the front end of the monster that just hit them!
They hit the ditch with a thud. Hene’s side airbags had already deployed. Now both sets of front ones did with a force that threw them back into their seats. Both were knocked out.
The vehicle had only hit with enough force to get the car into the ditch. It stayed on the road. The front ‘cow catcher’ bars prevented any major damage.
“Get them both” the driver, a short wiry man, almost devoid of emotion, spoke to the men with him,.“Our bosses want them.”
The other three were out of the vehicle and making their way to the car. Getting the driver was easy, her side wasn’t impact damaged, so the door still opened. She didn’t look seriously hurt. Just a few quick cuts with a hunting knife and the airbags were ripped out. She was free.
One of them put her over his shoulder and carried her ‘like a sack of spuds’ to the waiting vehicle. The other guy wasn’t injured. Not too seriously, anyway. Not that they cared. The bosses wanted them to talk. Then they’d be ‘shark bait’, so injuries weren’t much of a concern, just as long as they can talk!
None of them liked the idea. They didn’t like cops, but murder was different. Once the cops realized two of their own were gone, there’d be no safe place to hide! None of them were squeamish, but it just didn’t seem right. Big Jake had sort of said so.
“If you don’t want the same.” The leader replied. He was a stone-cold killer. Small, wiry type of disposition with a pockmarked face that gave the impression of fish scales, hence the name Fish face that they’d already begun calling him behind his back.
“Who the hell is this creep?” Henry asked under his breath.
“One stone cold son of a bitch killer!” Jake whispered back as they manhandled first Sam, then Hene, out of the car, “pity these poor sods!”
“Know exactly what you mean.” Henry spoke quietly. “But I really don’t want to join ‘em, so let’s get on with it and keep our traps shut!” He grabbed Hene and began binding the hands. As soon as they’d secured them, he tied the feet. Hene was just coming round when Fish face walked up to him. He had a syringe. “This’ll keep them quiet,” he spoke more to himself as he took the syringe. He injected the syringe into his arm. Hene went out like a light.
Two minutes later, both of them were in the back of the big vehicle. It was a Dodge pickup, a two ton behemoth, late eighties model. They threw them onto the truck bed without bothering to be too gentle.
Fish face climbed behind the wheel. “You,” he pointed to Jake, “in with me, you other two, on the back, let’s move!” His eastern accent adding authority, he slapped the side of the vehicle, “come on MOVE!”
As soon as they were either in or on the vehicle, he turned the key, put it into gear and pulled away, taking care not to spray the gravel. All that draws attention. It was second nature.
As soon as Sam and Hene left, both Joey and Sandy made their way back to the garage. They’d been careful not to show the two cops what or who was back there. The last thing they’d need was to be arrested for kidnapping.
The garage was slightly separate to the house, which was good as a military interrogation is a lot rougher than a ‘civvie’ one, even when the cops being ‘brutal’ it’s still pretty tame compared to the military one.
The bikers all had pillowcases over their heads. Their eyes had been ‘taped’ shut as well. The two worst injured were laid out flat, not daring to move, knowing movement means a beating, painful and severe. Screams could be heard when that happened. Even that was part of the technique.
“You’ll get nothing from me, prick!” Scarface had shouted at one point.
A crack across the back with something long, flexible but hard had shut him up. “I don’t want anything from you, YET!” a voice spoke quietly and menacingly into his ear, then the tone rose to a shout. “I’LL TELL YOU WHEN TO SPEAK!”
Twenty-four hours, that’s how long even the hardest of men can expect to last before breaking under a military interrogation, some do last longer, but getting the ‘intel’ quickly is the order, after twenty-four hours you can expect it to be useless anyway, and just as many die before that twenty-four hours are up.
They weren’t planning on extracting information from the bikers. They already had all they needed, but they were still going to make these clowns ‘sorry they were ever born!’
Sandy had taken their phones and ‘cloned’ their hard drives. Every call, every text, email, every message was now MI6 and SIS’s
Sandy was busy on the computer when the Skype screens came alive.
“Sandy, get the team together.” it was Mildred from the New Zealand Secret Intelligence Service or ‘SIS’ “We’ve got an urgent development that needs immediate action!”
Chapter 19
The airfield was little more than a flat farmer’s field with a couple of sheds on it. Without the sign proudly proclaiming it was an airfield no one would have known it was even there.
The helicopter, mid-sized seven seater, was waiting. Engine burning fuel, blades turning as the big Dodge pulled up just outside the rotor disk. Fish face saw the pilot give a ‘thumbs up’ as the vehicle stopped. They were good to enter the disk.
Two shadows came out from the helicopter. They ran to the front of the Dodge and started manhandling the two extremely reluctant passengers in. A quick pistol whipping for each one soon cured any resistance.
“You three take the truck and dump it!” He gave orders to the three accomplices. “Then disappear, and I mean disappear!”
They didn’t need to be told twice. The three of them were in the vehicle and ready to scream out of there as soon as the V6 engine would take them. Henry was just about to ram her into gear when Fish face spoke one last time to them.
“Don’t be so bloody stupid as to try and keep the truck!” He was heading for the truck. “The cops will be looking for anything to lead them to it. AND BLOODY WELL SLOW DOWN!!!”
The other two had manhandled the two cops into the back of the helicopter. Within minutes, they were up and away.
“So,’ Jacko was summing up what they’d just heard from Mildred and trying to draw up some sort of plan. “We knew they’d make a play for someone, just didn’t expect it quite so damn well fast!”
“True,” Mildred was still on the computer screen, “but everything’s in play now. We’ve just got to run with the ‘hand’ we’ve been dealt!”
“Any idea when they were taken?” Joey asked. He was angry, he’d thought that they had a little while at least.
“No,” Mildred replied. “We only picked up the emergency call when the car was found. That was fifteen minutes ago, and before you ask, it was just north of Pio Pio. About fifteen klicks from you folks!”
“Jeez, that bloody close!” Smithy turned to Joey, “You really must have pissed ‘em off!” Every one of the team actually ‘cracked’ a smile at that.
“Any way we can track them?” Mildred asked, hoping for some good news. “What about the trackers we gave you?”
“For some strange reason” Sandy had a half smile, “I fed them to the two cops, in the refreshments we gave ‘em'' there were a few comments, “what?” She demanded looking around the room with a smile on her face. “Are you saying my cooking is that bad it’s got bloody lumps in?” she half swung for Joey with a tea towel she was holding.
“Ow,” Joey yelped, “I wouldn’t dream of it!” He protested, then turned to the screen, he carried on. “You’ve got the frequencies they transmit on, haven’t you?”
“Just telling my people to turn them on.” Mildred was typing furiously on the keyboard in front of her. It took a moment before she replied, “Yep, we’ve got ‘em. Moving northeast at, shoot, that’s fast!” She stopped for a moment and typed a few more strokes, then came back. “Confirmed, they’re moving northeast at a speed of a hundred and sixty kilometres an hour, that’s about a hundred and ten miles an hour, far too fast for anything on the road. They’ve got to be in the air!” She looked up from the computer screen, back to the camera.
“At the moment, they’re between Te Aroha and Paeroa in the Waikato, probably in a chopper! That’s all we have at the moment,”
“I’d guess it’s a seven seater,” Jacko interjected, “Pilot, whoever’s in charge, the two cops and at least two for muscle. With a seat spare for the equipment! And I’d say they’re heading for somewhere deserted. Probably an island off the coast!”
“I will not ask how you might know that,” Mildred came back. “Look, the earliest I can get any transport like that to you folks is three hours, when my team takes the people you already have off your hands. Sorry about that!” she stopped there, then added, “I’m presuming you folks want to be the ones to finish the job?” She knew the answer, but had to ask, even if it was only for the paperwork.
“Wouldn’t dream of it any other way,” Jacko replied. He carried on. “We’ve got a few things here to do. Joey and Sandy have a friend they need to invite to the party if you know what we mean! Now you can try to stop us, or you can turn us loose on these pricks, but either way, we’re going after them!”
“Figured you’d say that!” Mildred smiled. “Sir Mike warned me about this team!”
“Just make sure you send our Kit!” Mac spoke for the first time.
“All in hand Mac, all in hand, you’ll have what you need in three hours.” She reached for the off button, but before she pressed it, she stopped for one last time. “Good hunting gentlemen!”
“It’s going to be at least three hours before we’re anywhere near ready to help ‘em!” It was a statement more than anything else, one borne of sheer frustration. “But there’s other stuff we can do,” Jacko continued on. He turned and faced Joey, “We need you and Sandy need to go deal with that prick of a bent cop, I’ll leave it to you how you interpret that!” He looked at the other two, they were eager just to start some preparation, any kind would do. Knowing that the bent cop was being dealt with was a start at least.
“The rest of us,” Jacko went on, “Mildred’s sending our kit down, but we’ll prep everything else, including likely places they’re taking them.”
“Killing house boss?” It was Mac who asked the question.
“Expect so,” Jacko replied. “We’ll prepare for it, layout and everything!”
The ‘Killing house’ is a little corner at the SAS barracks in Hereford. They probably have one in every SAS barracks. But the Hereford one is the famous one. Purpose-built for training in hostage rescue. But not taking prisoners! All hostages rescued alive but dead hostage takers. Live hostage takers are extra paperwork, and the SAS hate paperwork.
Joey and Sandy both donned leathers, Kevin had a couple of sets for the work bikes they had on the farm, a couple of trials bikes, they’d already decided to take two of the road bikes, kind of “temporary loan on a permanent basis’ as Joey called it.
“Which one do you want?” He asked Sandy. “The Bonneville or the Commando?”
“What about the Harleys?” Sandy asked, she’d dreamt of riding a Harley Davidson, now they had the chance, she really wanted to take it!
“They’re good cruisers,” Joey replied, “but the Triumph and Norton are built for racing!”
“Okay” Sandy headed for the bikes. She straddled the Bonneville, reached down and turned the key. “I’ll take Bonnie. You get Clyde” she looked over as she fastened the helmet. Rocking the bike off the stand she pointed the bike towards the gate. “Ready?”
Joey couldn’t help smiling, he was disappointed, as he’d wanted the Bonneville, but a Norton Commando TT racer was a pretty good consolation, he straddled the bike smiling that only Sandy could come up with the names of two outlaws for the bikes, ‘Bonnie’ for the Bonneville, ‘Clyde’ for the Commando, it kind of fit them.
Last thing they did was plug in the phone chargers to the cigarette lighters and clip the phones into the brackets the bikes had fitted; next they put their earpieces on and turned on the Bluetooth.
“Scorpion four and five ready to roll,” Joey spoke into the phone. It was like a complete transformation. Out went the young kids, in came the professional team.
Both bikes roared to life, a final check of the lights and they were ready to roll, Joey flicked up the bike stand and turned the commando towards the road, taking a final look back at the team he flicked the visor down, “Let’s roll” the bike roared to life as they set off, dirt and gravel spraying back as they tore down the road.
Chapter 20
The elevator door made a slight swishing sound as it opened. She stepped out into the cavernous place. Artificial light kept everything ‘as bright as daylight’, but the reality was there was no natural light coming in.
She was on the fourth floor of a building that, according to the plans, only had three floors. Mind you, the people who ‘owned’ it didn’t really own the building, they just rented it. But they were too proud to say anything!
“Good to see you again, Ma’am,” a casually dressed man in his mid-thirties approached, holding out his hand for a handshake.
Mildred wasn’t her real name. But it was the name that everyone in the room knew her by. In fact, almost everyone in the organization knew her by. It was the name on the door of her office, but it wasn’t the name she was born with. Or the name she was known by those few people she called friends. ‘Mildred’ was her “Call-sign”, the name she’d chosen when she came into the world of ‘shadows’.
“Good to see you too Mark, keeping busy I see.” She shook his hand. “Where are we up to?”
There were five people in the room; apart from Mark, they were all studying their computer screens. “Scorpions four and five just called in as rolling,” Mark replied, “the rest are gearing up ready for the chopper!”
“Speaking of which,” ‘Mildred,’ asked, “Where are we with the helicopter?”
“First one’s airborne now,” Mark looked at his watch. “They’ll be at the farm in just over an hour. The second one will be on standby at Papakura, just in case it all turns to,”
“Yes, I know,” she sounded tense, “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst” is almost a ‘mantra’ the spy agencies live by. “Where are we with the rest of things?”
“Chambers in London sent a list of accounts, both here in New Zealand and Australia, for us. We’ve notified the Aussies, they’ll drain the accounts there when we give them the go,” Mark walked towards his desk at the far end of the room. “I’m just setting everything up so it’s fully automated. I’m making sure none get missed.” He took his seat and started typing on the keyboard, “all set for when you’re ready ma’am.”
“Not yet,” Mildred replied. “We move too soon and they’ll get wind of what we know! Where are we with tracking the two cops?”
“They’re in a helicopter ma’am,”. Another voice replied. It belonged to a youngish girl with long black hair and a nose ring. She was the youngest looking of the group, and seemingly the ‘free spirit,” with a semi-gothic look about her. “Travelling around one fifty kilometres an hour. They just left the coast. Looks like they’re headed for an island off the coast, either Whale Island or White Island, we’re not sure yet”
“How long until you’re sure?”
“They’ll be on Whale Island in about ten minutes; if they put down, we’ll know from the GPS!”
“What about White Island?”
“That’ll be another half hour flying time,” the girl responded.
“Okay” Mildred looked round the room, “That means they’ll have a half hour ‘free time’ with their prisoners! SHIT”. She wasn’t happy at all. Turning back to the team, she spoke a little louder than intended, “where are we with Murray?”
“Scorpions four and five are on their way,” another of the operators replied. He was slightly older, but not much. Blonde hair and a ponytail were his distinguishing features and a small goatee. It made him look like ‘Buffalo Bill’, the legendary figure from the Westerns; the team had given him the name ‘Cody’,
‘I know that you bloody imbecile!’ She felt like shouting, but all that came out was, “I know, how long before they get there?”
