by Drew Lindsay
Joy hit the car horn twice and waited. The jungle remained quiet. She waited a few minutes and let the horn sound twice again. They heard the sound of a large motor. Headlights leapt from the thick foliage and Sam’s mud crawler pulled up beside them.
‘Thought it was tomorrow night,’ he yelled over the noise of the motor.
‘Change of plan,’ said Joy. She went around to the rear of her car and opened the boot. Ben hoisted the re-breather over his shoulder and took it to Sam’s jeep. He deposited it on the back seat. Joy threw flippers and a mask in beside them.
‘You going to sit there like a stunned mullet Sam? Get out here and help.’
Sam turned off the motor and climbed down. ‘Why the sudden rush?’
‘They attacked Brenda Grant during a party at the Sheraton tonight and kidnapped her bodyguard,’ said Ben. ‘I need to go to the island tonight.’
‘Weather’s blowing in,’ said Sam as he lifted the leather bag out of Joy’s boot.
‘I can’t see any weather blowing in,’ said Joy.
‘My bones can,’ said Sam.
‘To hell with your bones,’ said Joy, slamming the boot of her car. ‘You just get him out there in one piece, and bring him back in one piece or so help me Samuel….’
Sam threw the leather bag on the back seat and held up his hands in mock defence. ‘I’ll take good care of him Joy. You run along now and we’ll be back by morning.’ He turned to Ben. ‘What’s in the bag by the way? House bricks?’
‘Bolt cutters and stuff.’
‘What are you going to do with those?’
‘Cut bolts.’ Ben grinned.
Joy approached Ben and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sick of having good men taken from my life. Don’t be the second one.’
‘I’ll be OK. You pray or anything?’
‘All the time,’ said Joy.
‘Spend a bit longer with your next prayer. I think I’ll need all the help I can get.’ Ben kissed her and climbed into the jeep beside Sam. The motor roared and they disappeared into the jungle, heading towards the river.
They left the mouth of Dickson’s Inlet just after 9.30 pm. There were no lights on the 18 foot boat and Sam kept the motor just above idle. They slipped quietly past the huge Quicksilver diving vessels, past the marina and out to sea.
A half moon lit the vastness of the ocean. Sam’s old compass was more impressive than Ben had anticipated. It had its own internal lighting and appeared totally weather proof. Sam tucked the control stick of the outboard motor under an arm and placed the compass on the wooden seat in front of him. He set a course due east and opened up the throttle. The old boat moved through the water with surprising speed.
Ben sat in the prow facing Sam. A stiff ocean breeze slapped at his back. He could feel the familiar cold hands of fear starting to clutch at his throat. He slowed his breathing and tried to relax. He flexed his fingers open, shut, open, shut. He moved his head and neck slowly from side to side. Akira had taught him dozens of relaxation techniques but now he couldn’t remember most of them.
Sam watched him silently. Billowing white clouds gathered on the horizon to the west. Sam could see them. Ben had his back to them. The swell picked up but the old boat rode it well.
‘How long?’ called Ben above the roar of the motor.
‘All going well, under two hours.’
Ben nodded.
‘I could do with a drink,’ yelled Sam. ‘Didn’t bring any did you?’
‘I’ve got water,’ said Ben loudly.
‘Good Lord, you can’t drink that stuff!’ said Sam. He turned his attention to the compass and made a slight adjustment to their heading.
Out on Skull Island, Chin Chian Qian was very displeased. The focus of his displeasure was on his Risk and Operations Manager, Mr. Do Tu Du. Both were in Mr. Qian’s vast office. The blackness of night now obscured the ocean views.
Mr. Qian’s voice had reached a high decibel level indeed. Three of the more recent employees to have arrived on the island, cringed in the corridor outside.
‘And who thought up this grand scheme Mr. Du?’
‘I did sir.’
‘To kidnap a world famous movie star and bring her to my island?’
‘I thought it would keep the rest of them from working on the movie just out there.’
Qian clasped his fingers together so forcefully that they began to turn blue. He was seething with rage. ‘Why didn’t you kidnap the Pope and bring him here as well? The attention and publicity would have been around the same!”
Du said nothing.
‘And to top it off,’ Qian was yelling again, ‘you get the wrong girl. You get the star’s bodyguard and from what those cretins outside tell me, they have probably killed the movie star!’
Du was shaking.
‘On top of that Mr. Du, my Inspector friend at Port Douglas, tells me there is a Karate expert, bodyguard, ex police detective who seems to know more than he should, poking around and even killing some of your hired help?’
‘I don’t know about him Mr. Qian.’
Qian leapt to his feet. ‘No of course you don’t you moron. You are removed from your duties. You have totally compromised this project with your incompetent bungling. Go down to the foyer and wait. I’ll deal with you in a moment.’
Du quickly left the room. Qian barked an order in Chinese. The three men who had been waiting in the corridor filed silently into his office. Qian walked up to each man and stared at him. Each looked at the floor. Qian began to speak softly in Chinese. He walked slowly up and down in front of the men as he spoke. When he had finished he returned to his desk and sat down. He pointed to the door. ‘zou kai.’ (Get out)
Ben checked each piece of equipment. He un-wrapped the Magnum revolver from its double skinned waterproof bag and ensured it was loaded. Sam’s eyes went wide at the sight of the huge handgun but he said nothing. Ben secured the revolver and cartridges, along with his mobile phone, in the waterproof bag and zipped it closed. He secured the watertight seal.
The ocean swell was becoming larger. Ben swung around to face the breeze. It was swiftly turning into wind. He watched the billowing clouds approaching rapidly.
‘Me bones never lie,’ yelled Sam.
Ben faced him. ‘We’re not going back.’
‘We’re over the southern tip of Batt Reef now if my compass hasn’t led me astray. We should be able to see Skull in about 20 minutes. I hope they’ve left lights on.’
‘Get me to the northern end of the reef around the island,’ yelled Ben, and once we’re in that close, no noise.’
‘The wind is working with us tonight,’ said Sam loudly. It’s blowing our sound away from them.’
Ben nodded. He pulled out the wet suit and wriggled into it without removing his clothes. He took off his runners and socks and stowed them in a waterproof bag along with the leather bag and tools. He also placed three compact inflatable life jackets in the bag. Rick had explained in detail how to operate the re-breather, also reminding him several times that the unit was worth over $8,000 and he had better bring it back in one piece. Ben slipped into the straps. The device was amazingly light. He left the weight belt on the bottom of the boat. The weight of the tools and gun would keep him down sufficiently. He would improvise for the trip back to the boat as he was hoping to have company. By that time, the secrecy of his mission would probably not be an issue.
‘There’s a light out there,’ called Sam. He cut the motor slightly. ‘It’s got to be Skull Island.’
Ben swung around. He could make out a red glimmer in the distance. It disappeared each time the boat moved from the top of a swell, to a trough. Ben glanced at his watch. It was just after 11.30 pm. He secretly admired the skill of the old boatman. He would never have found his way to this island, especially in the increasingly stormy conditions.
Waves could now be seen breaking on the reef surrou
nding Skull Island. With one hand, Sam pulled a pair of binoculars from a canvas bag behind him and examined the island. Finally he took them away from his eyes. ‘They seem to have burned someone,’ he said. Ben moved aft and took the binoculars. He sat in the centre of the boat and focused on the light. It was a fire on the beach. It had died down but the remains of a human body; head, bones with some burning skin and tissue, was strung up on a post.
Ben handed the binoculars back to Sam. He then pointed to the north of the island and Sam turned the boat in that direction. The remainder of the island was in darkness. They slowly moved parallel with the outer reef and about 200 metres from the breaking waves. Occasionally, part of a wave continued past the reef, unbroken and on into the lagoon. Ben concluded they were the gaps in the coral. He would use one of these to swim underwater into the shelter of the lagoon.
Fifteen minutes later they rounded the tip of Skull Island to the north. Sam inched his way towards the reef. The swell had abated in this area but the wind was howling. Sam saw a tiny gap in the reef at the same time Ben did. They both pointed to it. Ben moved back and sat beside Sam. ‘You want to try to take it through?’
‘No bloody way mate. Too narrow and the waves are all over the place. You’ll do better on the bottom.’ Sam tossed an anchor over the side. It held fast to the sea bed. He cut the motor. The boat was around 100 metres away from the breaking waves and in a relatively calm swell. It was now almost pitch dark. Heavy clouds swirled in and totally obliterated the moon.
Ben put on his mask and flippers. He attached the underwater light to his forehead with rubber straps. He turned on the cylinder valves and switched the re-breather into operation mode.
The waterproof carry bag was attached to a 40 foot rope. Ben hoped it would be long enough. He lowered the bag into the sea and played out the rope. The bag hit the bottom at around 30 feet. He tied off the rope. Ben gave Sam the thumbs up and went backwards over the side.
He went hand over hand down the rope into the inky blackness. The lack of the sound of bubbles initially alarmed Ben. He was used to the constant hiss of inward air and the roar of bubbles out through the regulator’s exhaust. The re-breather delivered all the air he required but was extremely silent in operation. His hands touched the waterproof bag lying on the bottom. He clicked the underwater light onto its lowest setting. Even that was sufficient to illuminate the white sand and the walls of coral directly in his field of vision. He tipped the light downwards slightly and was about to pick up the bag when he realised he had company. It only flashed past for a second but there was no mistaking the grey torpedo shape and the dorsal fin. He clicked the light onto a higher setting.
The shark came back. It moved slowly towards him and veered off at the last moment and swam behind him. Being in the water with sharks during the daylight is one thing. At night it takes on a vastly more dangerous edge because for most of the time you have no idea where they are. The shark came back towards the light. Ben estimated it to be around 3 metres long and to his relief identified it as a grey nurse. It seemed more curious of the light than after a feed. It still had row upon row of razor sharp teeth. He also knew that where there was one shark, there were probably more.
He tried to ignore the shark and untied the rope from the bag. The weight of the bag gave him negative buoyancy but that suited him for the present. He glanced at his wrist compass and began to swim slowly towards the reef surrounding Skull Island.
Sam sat back on the timber seat and slipped his hand again into the canvas bag at his side. He pulled out a small bottle of whisky, opened the screw top lid and took a sip. ‘It’s going to be a long bloody night,’ he said to himself. ‘Man’s got to have some sustenance.’
“****”
Chapter Thirty Six