ANTARCTIC FIRE: A Harry Crook Thriller - Conspiracy in the Antarctic

by Chris Geater

  I opened the passport, the picture a good likeness only a couple of years old, the name, Hengal Strumphenic.

  Smurf was giggling, I wasn't.

  I looked at Natalie, “Really?”

  “Just think Babushka, Hengal, keep you motivated,” she added enjoying the whole thing.

  I wasn't aware the Atoll Maupiha’a existed nor to be truthful knew anybody who did. The perfect location to hide the valuable Harry Crook. The locals, all ten of them welcomed us as they would a brother or sister. Smiles and laughter accompanied by some sideways glances trying to figure out why anybody would venture so far from civilisation to their remote ring of sand.

  Natalie’s uncle Ray, an extremely capable seaman brought us into the lagoon within the sandy circle with effortless ease. A few days later while assuring us that a supply boat swung by regularly and would include many essentials for us on its next scheduled visit, he sailed off literally into the sunset taking advantage of the tide to navigate the shallow exit out into the vast Pacific.

  The novelty of sandy beaches, unlimited lobster, fly free atmosphere must wear off eventually, personally I felt right at home. Natalie blended in famously even without her phone and internet. The large quantity of cocktail making liquid helped ease the transition for us both as I worked through the whole concept of being trapped with a woman towards whom my affection increased daily but without the usual comfortable escape route I normally kept open in the unlikely event we became less enamoured with each other over time.

  About four weeks into our isolation we sat on a couple of rough but comfortable driftwood chairs at dusk sipping pina coladas made from white rum, coconut milk and powdered pineapple juice, warm pina coladas mind you, the island completely devoid of refrigeration.

  “The life for me Harry, who would have thought eh? Ten years studying for my PhD, rigorous recruitment and training for my diploma in spying, Antarctic volunteer to improve my career prospects yet here I am, probably unemployable, sipping cocktails about as far as you can get on this planet from civilisation and with a very wanted man.”

  Here we go. Even a tropical paradise can't survive a malcontent. A potential escape route formed in my mind, canoe, some water and food, paddle seventy two kilometres to the next island….

  “I’m included in the bunch who wants Harry Crook by the way,” she added and my desire to escape eased somewhat.

  In fairness, she was great company and an ability to adapt that surprised even her. The simplicity of life on the island although challenging at first became a salve as we wound down from our inherent western busy life style. We learnt to truly relax.

  The supply boat came and went, our store of goodies stacked in the small tin shed we called home, the pile somewhat depleted due to Natalie's generosity toward the locals which was fine by me.

  That night I awoke as one of the young local men, Ambrose who lived on the northern end of the island shook my shoulder. “Wake up Harry, quick, wake up.”

  “What, what is it?”

  “A ship anchor outside reef,” he panted. “I hear chain, no lights on ship. Some men, they come ashore in small boat, they have guns and things.”

  Well, here they were. Not unexpected but certainly sooner than I would have thought.

  I could see the light of the moon bright on the sand outside our shack. Even men unfamiliar with the small Atoll would be able to make their way around without difficulty.

  Natalie emerged from her slumber. “What's going on? Ambrose? Is that you?”

  “Yes Nat.” All the locals called her Nat, she hated it.

  “Looks like even Maupiha’a is not out of the reach of our oriental friends,” I said with a sigh. “There’s a ship anchored up north, men with guns etc.”

  “You can't be sure, it could be anybody, doesn't have to mean they’ve found you.”

  “You’re right, must be some miscreant Pacific pirates come to steal our lobsters, quick, lets eat the lot.”

  Ambrose looked horrified. “No Harry, too many, maybe six or ten, bigger than me!”

  “I meant the lobsters Ambrose, lets eat the lobsters before the men steal them.”

  Natalie dug around some of our kit and produced my new baby desert eagle and some other hand gun I couldn't recognise in the faint light. Ambrose eyes were round and bright like the moon, he couldn't take them off the weapons.

  “Is them guns?”

  “Yup, them is.”

  “Can I shoot them?”

  “No, you can't. Nat and I will take care of these men, you go and tell the others to stay inside, don’t come out no matter what. You understand?”

  He nodded and raced off to tell the others.

  “How did they locate us?” Natalie asked. “Uncle Ray’s the only one who knew we were here and he wouldn't have told a soul.”

  “Not sure, could have been the supply boat gossipping about white people on the island, a bit unusual, something worth chatting about.”

  It could also just be a bit of good detective work by the Chinese and their extensive intelligence network in Australia. There could have been any number of operatives at Hobart Domestic terminal, we went through the normal arrivals section where all Antarctic flights are processed. Our hire car would need to be returned from Strahan, info easily gained from a cash strapped hire car counter girl. A Swan 70 berthed at Morse Bay in Tasmania would have the locals talking, they wouldn't see many in their neck of the woods. Ray’s Swan would have an AIS transmitter so a twelve year old could track the vessel once they knew its name. I calculated weeks prior that our current night time scenario would play out eventually in one form or another, a bit earlier than I expected but them’s the cards we are dealt.

  We slowly made our way out of the small gathering of huts into the thickest part of the coconut trees.

  “It will be a bit difficult for them to recognise us in this light but they may just decide to eliminate everything just to be sure,” Natalie whispered.

  “I have the feeling they may want me alive, the carte blanche approach may not be their plan. The first local they come across will be their source of information. We should try and head them off at Tom’s old shack, that will probably be the first one they come to.”

  “I just hope Ambrose got the rest of the residents to go south, the old fishing shed near the jetty would be a good place to hide.”

  We stood still for a few moments but no noise other than the background of waves crashing on the reef, loud enough to cover most quiet sounds of feet on sand.

  Shadows moved on the sand as a slight breeze ruffled the overhead foliage, the moonlight bright yet deceptive. Natalie gave a slight gasp, I quickly turned and gave an involuntary gasp myself and promptly collapsed onto the ground as something hard connected with my head. Semi-conscious I tried to stand, mumbling something about having a go. Blinded suddenly by a torch shone full into my face, a shout of satisfaction in some oriental language, then.

  “Ahh, Mr Crook. What a pleasure it is to see you again.” Colonel Lu Wu-Dang, what is it with this guy? He removed his headset.

  More men gathered around, all with infrared headsets over one eye, that's cheating!

  “You get around Wu-Dang, fancy meeting you here,” words slightly slurred, not everything in my vision completely focused. I tried to think of something funny to say only nothing came to mind, the situation was probably not all that funny.

  Natalie groaned and sat up, dark liquid ran down the side of her head. Anger raced through my body, I swung my head down and forward catching Wu-Dang on the nose, a pleasurable crunch as nose gave way to forehead followed by another crunch as head gave way to steel, the sand and I met again.

  The next lucid moment revealed the rough surface of sand and gravel as I was dragged along feet first by two fairly strong men, my hands and feet bound by cable ties, who doesn't love cable ties. Natalie was nowhere to be seen, only a few men behind and some upfront. I don’t think they would have given her much thought, to them she would ha
ve been just another woman, nobody to be considered.

  I spoke no words during the brief journey as my body bounced along merrily followed by a broken and bruised head, at least I was on this side of the sand, Harry Crook wanted, alive. Finally the soft beach, my hands and feet grabbed by several hands and tossed unceremoniously into a small aluminium tender. The crowd leapt in after my embarkation and an engine revved up as we took off over the water towards whatever ship awaited my arrival. The tender bounced off the metal ships side indicating the end of our voyage. Someone tied a rope to my ankles and like a slaughtered beast ready for the abattoir they hauled me onto the damp steel deck of a large ocean fishing boat, looked like a factory trawler, smelt like it, large enough to make its way to China with no stops.

  “This time you will not escape your destiny Mr Crook, my family name will be cleared, our dishonour removed. You share my happiness, no?” In spite of a swollen nose and blood all over his fatigues he did look happy.

  “Look Wu-Dang, I'm happy to send a letter exonerating your entire family, I’ll send it registered and express, I’ll take all the blame, it’ll be no inconvenience.”

  He laughed and then gave instructions in English for my benefit, “Take him to the empty cabin up forward, secure the lock and post two guards.”

  Half walking and half dragging, my escorts delivered me into a small cabin devoid of anything other than a bunk one side and a toilet the other. A small vent provided a stream of hot stale air, the bunk really just a timber bench with a side to prevent rolling out in a sea. My feet and hands were cut free, I was pushed towards the bunk and the steel door closed behind them. The cabin was certainly up forward, indicated by a deafening noise of anchor chain piling up in some compartment next door as we got underway, followed smartly by the even more deafening noise of anchor chain running out as we stopped getting underway. I wish they would make up their mind, the noise was killing me.

  Silence returned other than the gentle air vent and eventually I drifted off lying on my hard bunk, head on one arm.

  Muffled sounds made their way through the steel walls of my confines and woke me from my restless slumber, steel on steel, eventually shouting in the vicinity of the door. Expecting the worst I retreated behind the hinged side and crouched, I wasn't going to finish my short mediocre life without some sort of resistance.

  “Mr Crook? Harry Crook? You’re safe Sir, no need to hide.” A young voice with a strong American accent.

  I stepped out to come face to face with a couple of young men in US Navy fatigues armed with MP5s, nice short little 9mm H&Ks for those narrow ships passageways. My appearance must have been worse than they expected, one of them muttered something racist about people of Asian appearance and supported me each side.

  “You’ll be OK now Sir, we’ll look after you. We’re from the USS Howard, she’s only a couple of hundred yards away, there’s a ship's boat waiting alongside.”

  We made our way to the deck passing several US sailors herding groups of Chinese seamen onto the aft open area of the ship. Silhouetted against a starry night sat the unmistakable shape of an Arleigh class destroyer, the US Navy’s bread and butter. A stepped gangway hung from the trawlers side, a small launch bobbed against the bottom platform off which I was assisted by the crew.

  “Take it easy there you guys, this is Mr Harry Crook,” said one of my rescuers from the gangway. “He’s been pretty badly messed with so go easy.”

  I felt kind of special and certainly grateful for my emancipation. Not sure how it all came about but details were not important.

  I turned to one of the sailors, “Do you know how Natalie Walker is? Is she OK? Have any of you been ashore?”

  “Just relax there Mr Crook Sir, we have men ashore, from what I understand there are no casualties on the island.”

  Another gangway, another steel ships side, a little tiring this climbing on and off ships, grateful I never joined the Navy in hindsight.

  Once on the deck an officer stepped forward.

  “Mr Crook, I'm Commander Browner, Captain of this ship. I’m normally no fan of CIA type people but can I just say that we are all grateful for your courage Sir.”

  I didn't have the energy or processing power to correct him even though the comparison stung, CIA indeed.

  “We heard what you did in stopping the Chinese in the Antarctic and it's an honour to have you onboard.”

  “Thank you Commander, it really was a bunch of us that gave our Asian friends a headache, I was just one of many.”

  “I understand Sir, however given the fact that it was only you that our Eastern folk were interested in tells me that you were, in their eyes, the chief antagonist. That puts you in our good books, I'll tell you that.”

  “What about the Colonel, Lu Wu-Dang, I’m pretty keen to see he’s not out on the street any time soon?”

  “You don’t have to worry about that Mr Crook, my masters have a special plan for your Colonel. Now lets get you down to the infirmary and fix you up.”

  “I wonder if you could communicate with your men ashore and find out how a Miss Natalie Walker is?”

  “I'll send the boat there straight away and find out for you. Now lets get the medics to look at that head of yours, you’re bleeding all over my ship.”

  About thirty minutes later a slightly bloodied Natalie stepped into the sickbay, wrapped her arms around me and hugged, squeezed, sobbed. I think she was fond of me. I was no less fond of her and surprisingly grateful that I held her in my arms.

  The medic gently prised us apart and began to clean her head wound.

  “What I can't understand is why the ship didn't leave?” I said. “They raised their anchor and promptly dropped it again. Why would they do that and why hang around?”

  Natalie smiled, the room lit up. “Our young friend Ambrose is more resourceful than we gave him credit. I think he holds you in high regard, not sure why.”

  The story unfolded. Ambrose and a couple of other locals came up with the idea of using a large roll of thick rusty steel cable that lay coiled up amongst the coconut trees as a left over from securing the copra ships when the dried coconut was processed and exported from Maupiha’a years ago. In spite of the dangers he swam out to the Chinese ship towing a small rope attached to a large rope which was in turn attached to the steel cable. He wrapped the rope around the ships propeller and as the ship steamed up to the anchor it ended up with a hundred metres of steel cable wrapped around the entire propeller and shaft rendering the vessel completely immobile. Fortuitously the Chinese were held up long enough for the DDG that Smurf had alerted to turn up along with a smart and fast well armed Tahitian patrol boat.

  “So you owe your rescue mainly to him, and Charles who somehow knew that Wu-Dang was about to turn up here.”

  Once our medic was satisfied with his handy work we were returned to the island where the locals laughed and slapped us on the back with delight.

  “Ambrose, I don't know why you did what you did but I will be forever grateful for your courage.”

  “Harry, it was no problems. Me and da fellas, we have good fun. Should have heard men on ship getting them all noise and worked up. You think big wave coming to sink them ship. No problem Harry, we glad you safe.”

  Sadly it was time to leave and the USS Howard offered to take us to Tahiti from where we could make our way home. After our goodbyes and distribution of all worldly possessions a ships tender took us onboard and off we sailed.

  Phosphorescence bubbled up in clouds as the ships wake left a temporary scar in the vast Pacific Ocean. We stood arm in arm on the flight deck enjoying nature as she displayed herself with beauty.

  “Seriously Harry? It doesn't matter where you are on this planet, there is always someone who wants to kill you.”

  “Well that’s not strictly true…,” I began my defence but she would have none of that.

  “No Harry, there’s nowhere on this globe. Bad news I’m afraid, there’s even someone on this ship tha
t wants to kill you.”

  “Who would want to kill me on… Oh, right.” The facial expression gave her away.

  “I'm glad you’re OK anyway despite your homicidal tendencies.”

  Finally a hug, and a squeeze and a little sob.

  “Damn you Harry,” she said into my neck, “I can't handle this, I'm a nervous wreck. It's got to stop.”

  “It will, this is the last time I'm getting involved with any of Smurf’s escapades. Back to errant husbands for me.”

  Who was I kidding.