The Isle of Devils HOLY WAR (13 page)

Read The Isle of Devils HOLY WAR Online

Authors: R. C. Farrington,Jason Farrington

BOOK: The Isle of Devils HOLY WAR
8.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Storm added, “That’s a great idea. Do you know Morse code?”

 

Savage smiled and said, “Just a little bit, I did learn the basic alphabet when I was a young Sea Cadet. Keep an eye out for our terrorist host while I signal.” Savage began to flash the SOS signal over and over towards the shore.

 

Back at Harbour Radio, one of the station attendants noticed the flashing from out in the ocean. He turned to the other attendant snapping his finger and said, “Hey, take a look at this out in the ocean. What do you make of it?”

 

The other attendant was a bit puzzled at first then he said, “Someone out there is flashing us an SOS signal.” Just then they both heard a pounding on the door.

 

The other attendant said, “You keep watching, and I’ll go see who’s at the door.” He went to the door and opened it, but before he could say anything one of the terrorists lowered his pizza box exposing his pistol and shot the attendant through the head. They quickly stepped through the doorway and entered the room where the other attendant was. The attendant saw the terrorist first. He picked up his chair and threw it through the window shattering it into a million pieces. Without a moment to waste he jumped through the window falling over thirty feet to the bottom of the moat. The terrorist looked down at the lifeless form assuming he was dead. They quickly noticed the tanker passing by and saw that someone was flashing a signal from the deck. One of the terrorists flipped open his cell phone and called Imad to tell him what they had seen. Imad instructed the terrorists to call the third man in from guarding the entrance and await his next command. Once he knew all three were in the station, he keyed a special code into his cell phone. Within seconds the station blew up sending fire and smoke hundreds of feet into the air. Imad flipped his phone closed and said, “Cobra’s venom is lethal.” He turned to his men and said, “Put the next plan into action. When you’re done find me those infidels and kill them. They’re trying to signal for help.

 

The explosion was so massive that Savage and Storm were jarred backwards several feet. Storm got up and said, “What the hell? Something just blew the hell out of Bermuda Harbour Radio. They won’t be monitoring anything for awhile.”

 

Savage shook his head and said, “These terrorists have thought of everything. They’re not taking any chances. We better get below. I’m sure there’s going to be some action on the deck now.” The two went below quickly.

 

Back at the hospital Krack had regained consciousness, and the Commissioner had been called to his side. The Commissioner walked over to Krack and said, “You’re going into surgery in a few minutes to have those bullets removed, but before you go I have to ask you a few questions.”

 

Krack nodded his head, but his thoughts were still very fuzzy.

 

The Commissioner held up Savage’s badge and asked, “Where did you get this badge? Did you kill the inspector?”

 

Krack whispered, “Savage told me to find you and warn you.”

 

The Commissioner fired back, “Don’t mess with me, mate. I already know you’re a small time crook. Do you want me to throw the book at you?” As the Commissioner finished, an officer ran into the room and whispered into his ear. The Commissioner said, “Take him on to surgery. I’ve got to go. The Harbour Radio Station just blew up.”

 

As the Commissioner turned to walk away, Krack yelled out and grabbed his arm stopping him, “Wait, it’s the terrorists!”

 

The Commissioner stopped dead in his tracks and said, “Did you say terrorists?’

 

Krack nodded his head and added, “Savage gave me his badge to warn you that the terrorists were leaving the island on the tanker ‘Sahara Gold. The deck is loaded with speedboats. They’re heading for a target somewhere.”

 

The Commissioner demanded, “Do you know where?”

 

Krack was sinking fast and all he could do was to turn his head from side to side.

 

The Commissioner took Krack’s hand and said, “I apologize for not believing you, Krack. You’ve done a service for your country.” He turned to the surgeons and said, “Get this man into surgery ASAP and make sure he lives.” He let Krack go and headed for the door to his car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Deception

 

Imad went straight to the Captain’s quarters to give Hooda a report. Imad knocked on the door and entered the Captain’s quarters. Imad said, “Hooda, may I speak?”

 

Hooda replied, “Yes, go ahead.”

 

Imad added, “Bermuda Harbour Radio is destroyed.”

 

Hooda snapped back, “I know that! Don’t you think I can hear and see you fool? Yes, it was magnificent. How many infidels did we send to hell?”

 

Imad replied, “Two, Hooda.”

 

Hooda stood up and pounded his fists on the desk yelling, “The Holy War has begun. In a few days we will send thousands of infidels to hell.”

 

Imad saluted Hooda and said, “Yes sir.”

 

Hooda added, “Go make the tanker ready for the voyage while we’re still under the cover of darkness. When you’re done, find our visitors and kill them.”

 

Imad saluted again and said, “Yes, Hooda.” He turned and left the Captain’s quarters.

 

Imad went to the tanker’s bridge and barked out commands over the ship’s intercom system. Immediately activities all over the tanker began to happen.

 

Below deck Storm and Savage had been listening to Imad’s commands. Savage was first to talk, “It appears like they’ve sounded the battle alert.”

 

Storm replied, “Maybe they did. Maybe this is a battle ship and not a tanker.”

 

Savage added, “Well, if that’s the case, we’d better figure out what’s going on and plan a little sabotage just in case Krack never got through to the Commissioner.”

 

As Storm stood up he said, “I’m sure he was found, but I agree the more we find out about this tanker the better.” The two began moving in the direction of the hatch which led to the top deck.

 

Meanwhile three separate work crews with scaffolding began lowering the scaffolds down to where the ship’s name was on all three sides of the tanker. While they were doing this Storm and Savage were watching one of the crews work on the starboard side of the bow of the tanker.

 

Storm looked puzzled and whispered to Savage, “What in the hell are they up to? Why would they be cleaning the tanker now?”

 

Savage whispered back, “Not sure, but let’s watch and see.” They both crept over to the railing of the tanker and hid behind some piping while they watched the crew work feverishly like army ants.

 

One of the terrorists on the scaffold pulled out a machete from his belt and began raking it across the side of the tanker. After he repeated the process a few times part of the ship’s outer skin peeled up. He replaced the machete in his belt and grabbed at the peeled edge of the tanker. Another terrorist quickly began helping him peel back the tanker’s skin. After about ten minutes of peeling the thin skin back, they appeared to be done. They lifted the rolled up skin back to the ship and started scrubbing down the area. Another twenty minutes passed and they crawled back onto the tankers deck and left the area for what appeared to be a break.

 

Storm whispered to Savage, “What was it they were doing?”

 

Savage replied, “It looked to me like they were messing with the area on the tanker where the tanker’s name might be.”

 

Storm added, “Well, we’ve got all night so let’s go take a look.” While they were moving towards the bow of the tanker Savage looked off the aft and had a sinking feeling. He could see the night lights that were dotted all over Bermuda were getting smaller by the minute. He realized then that he might never see his beloved Bermuda again.

 

After about ten minutes of crawling under the pipes that ran the length of the tanker they made it to the scaffolding. Both looked over the side, but neither of them could tell in the darkness what was being done.

 

Storm turned to Savage and said, ‘Well, the only way to see what they’ve been doing is to go over the side and have a look.”

 

Savage added, “Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous? What if those bloody terrorists come back when we’re down there?”

 

Storm replied, “You just keep a lookout, and I’ll get clear in no time.”

 

Savage patted him on the back and nodded. Storm didn’t waste a minute as he jumped over the side of the tanker landing on the scaffolding. He looked up at Savage and said, “Quickly drop me the flashlight.” Savage dropped the flashlight right into his hands. Storm clicked it on and then cast the beam over the area where the terrorists had been working. He was shocked at what he saw. He looked up again at Savage and said, “These terrorists have peeled away the tankers name and underneath it is a new name.”

 

Savage whispered back, ‘What’s the new name?”

 

Storm replied, “It’s ‘The Liberty’.” Savage had been distracted just long enough. He had not heard the terrorists coming back until they were almost on him.

 

In a panic, Savage leaned over the rail and said, “The bloody bastards are back. Grab my arm quickly.”

 

Storm replied, “It’s too late. You’d better hide. I’ll think of something.”

Savage dropped down from the rail and quickly crawled under the piping. The three terrorists arrived within seconds. They grabbed the railing and one at a time jumped over it landing on the scaffolding. They continued cleaning up the area around the tanker’s new name. Savage was close enough to hear them talking in Arabic. Although he could not understand them, he was surprised that there was nothing to indicate they had seen Storm. What Savage didn’t know was that Storm had swung under the scaffolding and clung onto the rope that was looped around the end of the scaffold board. Storm was hanging on for dear life. A slip from either hand would result in a fall to his certain death. Storm was quickly running out of time. The thick rope was very hard to grip. Storm swung both his legs up from under the scaffold board and wrapped them around it. Before the terrorists could react, Storm started rocking the board violently from side to side. One of the terrorist fell instantly off the scaffold to his watery death. Storm next shoved the scaffold in one direction while he jerked the rope that was looped around the scaffold board in the opposite direction. The rope disengaged itself from the board causing the remaining two terrorists to fall to their deaths. The scaffold board was dangling and banging on the steel side of the tanker while Storm was barely hanging on to the loop of the other scaffold rope. He was also banging against the side of the tanker.

 

Savage had heard the screaming and now the banging. He quickly looked over the side and could see Storm dangling on the end of the rope. Savage yelled down to Storm, “Hang on, mate, I’ll pull you up.”

 

Storm yelled back up, “Ok, but I can’t hang on forever.” Savage pulled Storm back up to the railing in thirty seconds, but it seemed an eternity to Storm. Once to the railing Savage reached out and jerked Storm over the railing and onto the deck. The two lay there for a couple of minutes.

 

Breathlessly Savage said, “Once they’re done here they’ll be changing the name on the other side of the bow and the stern of the tanker.” Finally they got to their feet and looked for an open hatch to go below deck. The two darted through the hatch and closed it behind them. They found themselves on a small steel platform with a set of stairs leading further below.

 

Before they left the platform Savage said, “Storm, you alright? I thought I had lost you back on the scaffold.”

 

Storm replied, “I’m fine. It was touch and go for a bit, but it worked out.”

 

Savage asked, “I wonder why the bloody terrorists are changing the name of the tanker.”

 

Storm listened then said, “Two reasons I can think of. First, they must want to cover their tracks, leaving Bermuda as if they vanished into thin air. That would be hard for a huge tanker to do. Secondly, the element of secrecy and surprise. The authorities would be looking for the tanker ‘Sahara Gold’ not the tanker ‘The Liberty’.”

 

Savage added, “But if Krack also told the Commissioner about the speedboats on the deck of the tanker that would be another give away for the authorities.”

 

Storm replied, “Let’s just hope Krack made it back to Bermuda to tell someone.”

 

Savage was now shining the flashlight in all different directions around the platform. It was easy to tell that they were now standing above the tanker’s main oil tank. Savage said, “Holy Moses! Would you look at the size of this bloody tank we’re in! We could have several rugby matches going on in here at the same time. Let’s go down the steps and see what’s in here.”

 

Storm snapped back, “One thing for sure, Savage. I recommend not to light any matches.”

 

Savage replied, “Ok, smart ass, I won’t.” The two went on and stepped down about thirty steps.

 

At that point Storm said, “This tanker must be pretty low on oil, don’t you think?”

 

Savage looked around with the flashlight again and replied, “It looks like it’s only one-third full to me.” He then saw something floating on the oil and added, “What the bloody hell is that floating around in the middle of all this oil? It looks like an island to me.”

 

Storm grabbed the flashlight and said, “Let me take a look at that.” To the surprise of both of them they were looking at a floating barge twenty feet wide and at least one hundred feet long stacked at least twenty feet high with boxes and drums. They both continued on down the stairs to just above the level of the oil. The stairs descended deep into the black oil. On the last step of the stairs above the oil was a wood plank that connected the stairs to the barge. The two walked very carefully across the plank and onto the barge. They intertwined throughout the boxes and drums until they saw strings of flashing red lights.

Other books

Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat
April Morning by Howard Fast
Reinventing Leona by Lynne Gentry
Eva's Holiday by Judi Curtin
Griefwork by James Hamilton-Paterson
Burmese Days by George Orwell