by Brian Cain
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nine am Monday Stanton's Hummer idled to a stop in his garage and the automatic door closed behind them. His boys had been silent all the way from the airport after the chopper pilot had a heart attack in the salon bar whilst having a few drinks with them after the flight. Stanton could see he had to make some things clear.
"He didn't have a heart attack, did he Dad?" asked Robert.
Stanton looked round at the boys’ faces. "Yes he did, people who ingest as much Digoxin as he did usually do. Natural extract from the foxglove plant. His weak point was drinking neat scotch, a perfect mask for the drug; he also smoked like a train and has a poor sense of smell. The man's name was Lacier, not Ahern as he claimed. I stumbled on him whilst looking for a pilot to use. During the flight I double checked I had the right man in conversations during the flight. He was a chopper pilot for the French Foreign Legion and sold information to the Russians. Four Legion operatives working in Russia were captured due to the information he leaked; they were shot and dumped in the street after being tortured. He lived comfortably on the Gold Coast in Queensland on the money he made from selling information to whomever. I've been looking for him for years. I killed two birds with one stone you might say, no one but us know where we've been."
Cadiche was concerned. "What about the chopper? Someone must own it. There’ll be an enquiry; a pilot having a heart attack may need to review health standards for pilots. Lot of people wandering around asking questions," said Cadiche.
"Yeah to me, I own the chopper. I just don't have a licence to fly it," replied Stanton.
Anthony spoke. "We do, i and Robert are pilots. We both lease choppers now and then."
Stanton looked stern and oppressive. "If you ever go into the air make sure the information is indirect. The easiest place for them to take us out is in the air. We go air only if no other means are available, then only after a flurry of bullshit on the lines of communication. Speaking of bullshit, I’ll just check inside." Stanton shut down the alarm system and accessed the house. He opened a cupboard in the kitchen and pulled out a plastic container. He used the implements inside to spray door handles, computer keyboards and manila files. He then shone a blue light on the areas. "Clean as a whistle, not even any of my prints left. They've cleaned the whole place." The boys looked on with great interest. "Now wonder who I'm dealing with?"
Stanton pulled out a light switch on the wall just inside the entrance hall; it was on a hinge and revealed a keypad behind it. He punched in a few numbers and hit the enter button. There was a noise in the kitchen as the floor dropped and slid away revealing a concrete stairway. Stanton scaled the stairs followed by the boys and along a short tunnel. They entered a concrete lined bunker six metres square below the swimming pool. Stanton sat down in front of a computer keyboard, touched a key and the screens in front of him lit up; he loaded the password. He accessed video files from the secondary surveillance system, the visible one in the house being a smokescreen. They watched as two men in track suits moved around the home copying files and making notes. One was seen pushing his fingers onto every part of the walls. "Mm…Princeton ASIO he's good, I don't know the other guy, probably ASIO as well."
"Why is one fingering the walls?" asked Cadiche.
"They’re looking for this room."
"One of them has stopped the other from doing it."
"Yes, Princeton stopped him. He knows if they find this room the place will blow up and catch fire." Cadiche looked blank.
"This place is loaded?"
"It certainly is. Some of the steel framework is made of incendiary magnesium. Looks like galvanised steel and is quite strong. It would be ignited by small charges of C4 explosive placed in the structures weakest points. The pool would empty into this room becoming a powerful acid on its way destroying all the plastics here. There would be no usable evidence left."
"How does it work?"
"I haven't got all day Cadiche." Stanton punched on the keyboard and a safe came out of the floor. Stanton opened it with a manual combination. He took out three folders and handed them to the boys. "This is access information to the three properties at Hawks Nest. You're south Cadiche on the Nelson Bay side of the inlet close to work. You're central Robert and you are to the north Anthony. They are within streets of each other but Cadiche has a stretch of water as well. Access the places, memorise the codes, work out what is going on and burn the folders. Move there as soon as you can by the end of the week by the latest, I want all the girls on the island by this Friday night.
"Take these phones; they only communicate through four satellites I have acquired from the Japanese. Everyone thinks I have only two and can't do much with them but I don't know how long that secret will last. They work like radios with no numbers required avoiding any trace. If one of us calls the view window will light up and answers like a phone. The frequency is unique but can be traced. You must be at Hawks Nest Friday. The AFP will be busy with all this bullshit sent to them that ASIO picked up from here. That won't last longer than Friday when they bust a container load of imitation rubber dog shit for a novelty store chain throughout Australia from China landing in Sydney. They currently think it's full of ecstasy tablets. Any questions?"
"I have to think like you now, yeah?" asked Cadiche.
"You all do," replied Stanton. They shuffled out to their vehicles and left, the automatic garage door closed behind them. Stanton returned to the bunker, punched in codes and his satellites activated. He checked reception with his phone, talking briefly to Cadiche, Robert and Anthony. He closed the bunker and started making a snack in the kitchen. He turned on the commercial TV and watched the ABC news channel as he prepared his meal. He drank his coffee and chewed on his sandwich at the breakfast bar. He stood up, stopped chewing and turned up the volume in concern at what he saw. He listened carefully to the newsreader as he watched what he had recognised as a Dover class guided missile frigate of the coast of north Queensland.
"An unexpected visit by the nuclear-powered and armed British war ship the Westminster has drawn heavy criticism form the leader of the opposition and protesters are organising a rally at Sydney Heads should the warship enter the harbour. The leader of the opposition Phillip Clyde says he will be bringing the concerns of the protesters to question time in the House of Representatives this coming week. Prime Minister Bevan Stanwell has defended the ship’s presence stating inter-naval relations were vital to the security of the Pacific region and the visit was a sign of good will between the commonwealth countries. Prime Minister Stanwell further stated that although not a supporter of nuclear power the ship was a major deterrent for conflict that had been festering in parts of the Pacific between South and North Korea. The Westminster was detached from the UN fleet in the South China Sea for well earned rehabilitation of her crew."
Stanton rushed back to his bunker and activated his computer. He knew the ship was a strong message for someone and heading for Sydney it wasn't the North Koreans. He accessed the British naval data base, logged in his invisible password and found the order had come from Shadow Cabinet through admiralty. He thought his best bet was Hollis. He hastily found the grey phone number for Hollis and hoped he was there. The phone rang out. He called Hurst. Hurst woke up and picked up his phone.
"Bruce!" said Stanton.
"Yes, sounds like John."
"Exactly, turn it around."
"What? What are you talking about?”
"The Westminster, turn it around. What kind of military tactic is sending a steam hammer to drive in a thumb tack?"
"John, gives you some idea of how jittery people are getting around here. Somebody is just not getting the message there. I can't do anything John, she has her orders. Would take World War Three to turn her around. She would have docked by the time I could do anything. Would you stop calling me in the middle of the night?"
"World War Three, of course what great idea." Stanton hung up.
"John…John!John!!...Oh shit."