"Let us not assume anything, sergeant! Send a team back across immediately to search the ship and send a second team out on the ribs to search the water."
"Yes, Sir!"
Sergeant Merrill marched out and left an awkward silence in his wake, interrupted only by the beeps of electronic equipment and the muffled sounds of Heather crying.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Dan stripped off his clothes and waited patiently with his legs dangling over the edge of the boat and into the warm water of Glover's Reef. He'd recovered from his injuries remarkably well and gave full credit to the Royal Marine medics who'd tended him, along with the agreeable weather and warm climate of Central America.
Here in Belize no one cared about Daniel Harpur or what he'd done, and that was exactly how he liked it. Just like Nigeria, the people of Belize had enough to worry about of their own, never mind the exploits of one lone man, who in their eyes was just another paying customer, sailor or soldier enjoying a well-earned break in the sun.
Sean Merrill had done more for Dan than he could have ever hoped. Once on board HMS Mersey, Sean had stowed him away in the bowels of the ship and swore a loyal troop of followers, who tended and cared for Dan's every need, to secrecy. They'd sailed back to Belize and Dan had lived as a tourist for the last few months, supported by donations of food and money from 3 Commando Brigade personnel.
Dan had thought it extremely generous of them, until one day when he was thanking a young marine who'd randomly introduced himself and bought Dan a pint, and they'd got chatting. It seemed Sean had embellished a few well-known stories and fables of soldiering and heroism, placed Dan as the down-on-his-luck hero involved and then spread the tales far and wide across the camp.
It all culminated in his diving trip today.
As grateful as he was to his friend, Dan knew he was outstaying his welcome and it was time to move on.
A set of goggles and a snorkel came skidding across the deck and slammed into Dan's leg. He looked up to see Sean smiling over at him from behind the wheel of the boat.
"OK, Danny Boy, this is it. The big one. Give it one last shot, mate. After that, you're on your own, in more ways than one. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
# # #
In the crystal clear, pristine waters off the coast of Belize, Heather clung tightly to the bars of the cage. She was alone and terrified.
Waiting like bait in a trap, she took in the natural beauty of the reef that surrounded her and tried in vain to slow her breathing and remain calm.
The generous and thoughtful marines of 3 Commando Brigade had sent her a message, four months after the taking of La Mujer Codiciosa, inviting her to their base in Belize to take part in a wildlife safari organised to celebrate the overall success of what they were unofficially calling 'Operation Greedy Lady' - the rough English translation of La Mujer Codiciosa. Heather had been finishing off her work in Brazil and the short break over to Belize was a welcome one at the end of her first freelance contract as a wildlife investigator.
Andrei Sousa had been right about the Tercerio Commando's in Fortaleza and, with the death of Antonio Correia, their local network of criminal enterprises had come crumbling down.
The full extent of the fishing scam soon became apparent when the Harbour Master's pivotal role was highlighted by a group of aggrieved fishermen, and good old Detective Inspector Portillo's chequered history was uncovered when records and sensitive information leading back to her were found in Correia's office. Unfortunately, since the searches, Portillo had mysteriously disappeared along with her daughter.
With news of the capture of La Mujer Codiciosa spreading quickly, witnesses and victims crept hesitantly out of the woodwork, fingering middlemen, police officers and politicians, all inextricably linked to Correia's vast moneymaking enterprises, none least than the illegal fishing fleet operating out of Fortaleza Harbour which was devastating the delicate marine environment and the beautiful creatures dependent upon it.
Only a matter of weeks after news of Correia's death and the end of his reign, wildlife watching businesses, snorkelling and diving schools and several other associated enterprises began cropping up all over the coastline. It was good news for Fortaleza and even better news for the Pedra da Risca do Meio Marine Reserve.
Of Daniel Harpur, there was nothing. No news was bad news in his case.
The marines had searched, even the coastguard had taken up the task, widening the net right to the coastline of Fortaleza for many days after. In the end it had become a body recovery operation, and even then they had drawn a blank.
Dan was gone and she had to accept it. This trip to Belize would put an end to her time in Brazil and draw a line under the name, Daniel Harpur.
Heather decided that after the trip she would return to London. She might possibly even beg for her old job back at the Wildlife Investigation Agency. Life without Dan would never be the same again. Alone against people like Antonio Correia, she didn't stand a chance. She knew that now, just like Dan had known it and tried to tell her many times before.
With all the best intentions of law enforcement agencies of any sort, their hands were tied from the outset. Big business and criminals were always one step ahead, greedy and unhindered by laws they chose to ignore. Men like Dan were not always the answer, but when push came to shove and the shit hit the fan, Heather knew who she wanted in her corner.
A sharp tug on the rope attached to her side was the agreed signal from the marines and the crew on the boat up above that they'd spotted a shark. Heather wriggled in the cage, wiped at her goggles and struggled to contain her breathing, remembering the advice from the diving crew to keep it slow and steady or risk becoming light-headed. She had always wanted to swim with sharks and her dream was about to become fulfilled.
She strained her eyes, staring into the distance, swivelling from side to side inside the small cage to catch a glimpse of one of the seas top predators; a predator that might just have a better chance at life now that she'd help rid this small part of the ocean of a threat to its existence. It made her feel proud for a moment at what she'd accomplished, instead of her usual sadness at what she had lost in the process.
Then, out of the shadows, Heather spotted a dark shape approach. It was not what she was expecting. Instead of admiring the sleek, graceful lines of a prowling bull or blue shark, Heather was confronted with something altogether more spectacular.
Dan Harpur swam up to the cage in a snorkel and shorts. Heather caught her breath at the sight of him. His body was muscular and toned, criss-crossed with old cuts and scars that were healed but would never disappear. He gripped the cage opposite her and held himself there.
She reached through the bars and ran her fingers across the newest of his scar collection, high up on his shoulder where he'd been shot. She'd relived the vision of it happening every day since. He winced slightly at her touch.
Then he reached through the cage and cupped her face in his hands. They remained there for a few more seconds, just staring at each other, until Dan pointed upwards, indicating his need for air. He left her there in shock, with her heart beating wildly, as she watched him swim to the surface and disappear from view.
Heather yanked on the rope as hard as she could. She willed the crew above to haul her up as fast as possible. If she had her way that would be the last time, Daniel Harpur disappeared on her.
# # #
Thanks for reading THE DEAD SEA!
Often an organised criminal activity, illegal, unreported and unregulated fishing is thought to be worth between $10 – 23 billion per year! These pirate fishermen are killing tens of thousands of marine animals as a bycatch and destroying delicate marine habitats through unregulated fishing practices.
Here are a few facts, at the time of publication;
The global fishing fleet is 2 – 3 times larger than what the oceans can sustainably support.
Fishing industry observers believe IUU fishing occurs in most fisheries, an
d accounts for up to 30% of the total catches at some important fisheries. Since no-one reports catches made by the pirate vessels, their level of fishing cannot however be accurately quantified.
At least 51 species of cetaceans inhabit the South Atlantic – 6 of them are migratory whales (Blue, Fin, Sei, Minke, Southern Right and Humpback).
In my opinion, the world needs more heroes like Dan and Heather!
If you enjoyed this book then please take a moment and leave a review. The more positive reviews it receives, the more new people might read it and discover for themselves, through the telling of a tale, the plight of the world's oceans. Here's a link back to the book.
http://getbook.at/THEDEADSEA
If you would like to read the other books in the series, then follow the below links to take you to them at Amazon.
THE BONE FARM (Book 1) - http://getbook.at/THEBONEFARM
GATES OF IVORY (Book 2) - http://getbook.at/GATESOFIVORY
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The Dead Sea Page 13