The Special Operations Flotilla

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The Special Operations Flotilla Page 4

by Christopher C Tubbs


  The Ariadne wasn’t due to pick them up until dusk so they had to hide out for the rest of the day until their pick up at around 8 pm. They went back to the house they stayed at before and gave their friend (they were never given his name) the good news that he was the new owner of a fairly new fishing boat. He was overjoyed and made them a meal of a wonderful fish stew.

  They knew the army would move the chest today and they were praying that no one had opened it and discovered the theft. So Antton went out and found a concealed spot where he could see the road and watched. Around two pm he came back and said a squad of soldiers escorting a wagon had passed heading South. It looked like the deception was working so far but once the chest reached Boulogne the game would be up.

  Dusk came and they were waiting on the beach as the Ariadne slid up on the sand. They boarded and headed home with a great sense of relief. All they had to do now was avoid the English blockade.

  Chapter 6 The S.O.F

  They were enjoying an enforced rest, due to a huge storm that was lashing the channel with winds that were almost due east, trapping all shipping on the east coast in port. They were at their training base in Kent which was a manor house outside of Deal when they heard a carriage pull up outside and then the front door bang.

  Marty got up to see who it was when the door opened and in walked William Wickham and Admiral Lord Hood. All the men rose to their feet but were told to relax and sit down. The steward, Will, came and took their coats and hats. The Admiral made his way over to the fire and raised his coat tails with his back to the flames to warm his behind.

  “Filthy weather” he said

  Wickham stole the chair Marty had been sitting in prompting Tom to offer his but Marty waved him back to it and went and sat on the arm of the chair Armand was in.

  “Well I must say you gentlemen have stirred up a hornets nest over the other side of the Channel” Wickham said “The French are totally bemused as to when and where their money was stolen and they are bringing in a special team from Paris to investigate. We expect heads to roll – literally. They have brought in more soldiers, checkpoints have been doubled, all movement stopped. They have even beached the fishing fleets.”

  “The loss of funds hurts them as well” chipped in the Admiral “They can’t afford to lose money like that and as a consequence all their local civil servants, police, military and Navy won’t get paid.” He paused as he took a glass of Brandy from Will.

  “The Admiralty and the Government have been at loggerheads over what to do with the gold. But in the end they decided that the money should be kept in the project in the main part” he continued after a large gulp of the amber liquid. He liked to think of this whole adventure as ‘his project’. “The crown will take an eighth, you gentlemen” he indicated the six with a sweep of his hand “will share an eighth” grins all around. “your officers an eighth and your Admiral will get his eighth” he beamed at them in a benevolent way. “The other half will go into funding operations. Your unexpected success has prompted the First Lord to make you into a Special Unit. Part of the Navy but separate from it.”

  “Talking of which, what we have in mind is that we want this group to have two functions.” Wickham said. “First is to infiltrate into French held territory and liaise with local agents, help them with specific missions and provide a means to get them into and out of their operational areas”, he looked around the room to see how that went down, “and the second is to take on operations the regular Navy are not able to do or do not want to take on because they are too specialist or they consider them ‘dishonourable’.”

  “In other words you do the Navy’s dirty work.” Hood smiled wolfishly, then added “Work that should be quite profitable! You will have some Marines added to your team who have been chosen because they have particular skills. Armand! You have been made Lieutenant based on your previous rank in the Royal French Navy and will be in overall command. Martin, despite his age, will be second in command. You are required to make a list of equipment and vessels that you will need”.

  The Admiral tugged the chord that rang for the steward and he came in with a tray of drinks which were handed out to all.

  “Gentlemen, a toast!” said the Admiral “To the ‘Special Operations Flotilla’ may you cause confusion and consternation to the enemy!”

  They raised their glasses and drained them to heal taps and cried “Confusion and Consternation”

  The meeting broke up and Armand and Marty were given written orders which officially made them part of the ‘S.O.F.’. Their orders also made it abundantly clear that outside of the flotilla they were to present themselves as a training unit and that the mere existence of a ‘Special Unit’ was the highest of secrets.

  They were joined by their Marines a week later and a strange collection of individuals they were too. There were a couple of ex-poachers who were excellent woodsmen and sharpshooters. Another couple who were self-confessed former burglars. A former blacksmith, an ex-locksmith, an engineer and a livery man. A truly eclectic collection but with the common traits of intelligence and initiative. They were surprised to be under the command of a Frenchman and a fifteen year old Midshipman who apparently already had a reputation as a ruthless killer, but as most Marines, they excepted their fate stoically and reserved judgment until shown one way or another.

  They all settled into the house in their own way. The Marines preferred a barracks style set up and Armand and Marty were happy to let them. Joint training was more an exchange of skills than a formal training session and all benefited.

  Their first task was to set up a system whereby agents could be delivered to the French coast and the information they gathered could be easily brought back. They would also need to be able to recover agents from France and return them to England. So in their own style they got everybody together presented the problem and then invited everyone to make suggestions.

  They had sourced a very large blackboard that would make a schoolmaster weep with envy and Marty wrote down every suggestion as they were put forward. One suggestion was to disguise the agents as logs and float them ashore, another to find a bay miles away from anywhere and drop them there - both had their limitations.

  Then someone mentioned that the local smugglers were running back and forth to France all the time and could run right into the ports without being questioned.

  This was much more interesting.

  They homed in on that and started working out how they could use it. First they thought they could set up their own smuggling racket but that would be difficult as the contacts on both sides were extremely wary of new faces.

  Then Fred Billings, one of the Marines said “Why don’t we just take over one of the local gangs?” Arnaud stared at the ceiling as he thought that over and Marty looked out of the window deep in thought. The men looked at each other and waited.

  “C’est bonne” said Armand.

  “Perfect” smiled Marty, “which gang is well established but not so big that we will have too much trouble muscling in on it?”

  Nobody knew although there were a few suggestions from John Smith who came from that part of Kent originally.

  “John, you obviously know the local area, why don’t you go and see what you can find out. Corporal Hythe can go with you as backup” Armond said. “Take some money for bribes but don’t flash it around too much or someone will hit you on the head for it”.

  “Tom, take two men and set up a watch on the beach at Deal. See what boats go out and when. Try and identify the skippers and where they get together. We will need to make it clear to all of them we are now in charge and the easiest way to do that is come down hard in front of as many of them as we can” Marty added.

  Privately afterwards, Marty and Armand sat together over a glass of wine and talked over their chances of success.

  “You know what we are going to do will be totally illegal” said Marty. “If it goes wrong we could all get hung”.

  “Ahh but i
f it works we will ‘ave an invaluable resource for the intelligence service” replied Armand. “It will be worth the risk”

  “Well we better make a very fast and firm impression on the smugglers and show them we can make life even better in return, or we won’t stay in charge for long” said Marty

  “Oh I am sure you can manage that” laughed Armand

  After several weeks of surveillance and careful intelligence gathering by John Smith they had their target. It was a local gang run by two brothers and had half a dozen boats. They specialised in running Brandy and wine from France to England and paid in gold and silver. They had a network of outlets for their goods that reached all the way to London, which was also useful. They had found out that there was a get together planned to celebrate one of their skipper’s birthdays at a local pub and all the gang would be there.

  They armed themselves well with pistols, knives, cutlasses and clubs. Marty had his weapons harness under a long loose coat and had both his pepper pot pistols, his Bowie knife and his hanger. Armand had stilettoes in both of his boots, throwing knives in sleeve sheaths and a pair of pistols as well as a sword. There were fourteen of them and around thirty smugglers. They reckoned they had them out numbered.

  The approach to the pub was crucial. They didn’t want to be seen and have someone give the game away. So stealth was the first order. Marty and 6 men went to the rear of the pub, climbing through the gardens of the houses next to it to get there. Armand with the rest of the men were going in the front door.

  Marty and his men waited and listened and then there was the bang of a door opening and a pistol shot. Marty wrenched open the door and with a pistol in his hand led the men in through the kitchen to the common room.

  The first thing he saw was Armand stood with his men fanned out behind him facing the smugglers who had drawn weapons. He fired his pistol into the ceiling and immediately cranked the next barrel of the Nock three barrelled pepper pot into the firing position. The arrival of the second group stopped the smugglers mid step as they surged toward Armand and his men, and the multiple clicks of pistols being cocked, absolutely got their attention.

  “What be the meaning of this” said a man who they had identified as the enforcer of the gang. A violent, sadistic bastard who was more feared than respected called Sam Brown. They knew he had beaten to death a prostitute not three days before

  “We are here to make you an offer you can’t refuse” Marty said

  “And what be that boy?” said the man

  “You work for us from now on and we make yer rich” said Marty.

  “Work for you boy? You aint got the balls to take what be ours” he said and started to pull out a knife.

  Marty didn’t hesitate his left hand went behind him and came forward in a smooth well practiced action. Sam Brown looked surprised as the Bowie Knife sank cleanly into his throat and folded to the floor dead before he landed. There was a collective gasp from the room as much from the casual violence meted out as the fact that a fresh faced teenager had delivered it.

  “Anybody else got something to say?” Marty asked, as he stepped up and pushed him onto his back with his foot so he could recover his knife.

  There was silence and then a man they knew to be the boss said “I think you made yer point and ya have my attention so what be yer offer”.

  Arnaud stepped forward and said “Let us sit and we will explain. There is a back room, no? Monsieur Clarence?”

  Clarence looked surprised at the French accent but nodded to a door to the right of where Marty had entered.

  “My lieutenants?” he asked indicating a younger man that looked like him and a second that was obviously his brother.

  “Yes, your son and your brother can join as well” Arnaud said

  They left the room in the charge of their men under Tom and the five of them went to talk. On the way Marty indicated to the bar keep that he should bring drinks. The room was small and had a square table and six chairs. The smugglers sat on the far side against the wall and Marty and Armand sat opposite with their backs to the door.

  “Yer seem to know all about us but we don’t know anything about you” Clarence said “So why don’t you introduce yerself.”

  “My name is Armand and this is my compatriot Martin. We represent a well-connected consortium of individuals who are, shall we say, tolerant of your commercial activities but who would like to use them to forward their own interests”

  “We can guarantee you immunity from the excise service and can help you expand you activities” added Marty

  “Sounds like a reasonable offer if its genuine, so why didn’t you just come to me with it without all this . . .” he waved a hand at the door.

  “Would you have listened? Or just cut our throats?” Marty asked.

  “Point taken” Clarence replied with a thoughtful frown “Alright, let’s talk on this and see where it goes”

  “But Pa, they killed Sam!” cried his son, Jonathan.

  “I were probably gonna kill him meself seein’ as he beat poor Molly to death. She only held back a shillin’ to pay for her boy to see the doctor an didn’t deserve that, so shut up an listen.”

  “Here be our offer” said Marty “we provide protection from the excise and ease you in to new markets for the goods. We also provide funds to enable you to bring more goods back in. In return you help us with our interests by smuggling goods and people into France and occasionally bringing special packages and people back.”

  “For which you will be paid handsomely” added Armand who sat back in his chair with his arms crossed.

  “I know you now” Clarence said after looking closely at the two of them “I seen you at the big house and I seen who visited you. What’s to stop me telling the magistrate that Navy men be trying to muscle in to the smugglin’ trade”

  Marty dropped back into full dialect as he pulled one of his pistols and cocked it “Fer one thing you be dead as soon as you did” he pointed it straight between Clarence’s eyes “or I could drop yer righ’ now and take over anyway. Or” he lowered the hammer and replaced the gun in its holster and went back to his ‘Navy’ voice “you can make some money, grow your business and do your country a service. Your choice.”

  Armand laughed “My young friend can be very direct but ‘e does get to the heart of the matter. In the end we make you an offer that is a win for both of us. Do we have an accord?”

  Clarence thought for a long moment, his eyes shifting from Armand to Marty and back. Then he looked at his brother and son. His brother shrugged and his son nodded. Finally he nodded and held out his hand which Armond shook first and then Marty. Peter followed suit. He then looked at his son and said, “Jonathan, shake the men’s hands”. His son hesitated and looked as if he would rather grab a snake, but then he looked at Marty who just grinned at him and said,

  “Come on mate, it will be fun and you aint really going to miss that asshole are you?” and held out his hand. Jonathan looked back at him and recognised that inside the steely killer was a teenager just like him and shook his hand.

  “Now if we can get some paper, pen and ink we can write up a partnership agreement. You can read?” said Armand

  “Aye I can, so don’ try to add nothin’ we aint already agreed.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it mon amie” said Armand in his most urbane voice.

  “Now lets ‘ave a drink and you can tell me what’s a Frenchie doing working for the Government” said Clarence

  “I’ll give the news to the good people out there” said Marty “I bet it’s pretty tense and we don’t want to get off to a bad start”. Bill barked a short laugh at that thinking of his dead henchman.

  Once back at the house they sent a message to Wickham telling him they had established a way to get agents and messages to and from France. They also told him they wanted a Cutter and a dozen extra men to man it. Just normal top men and wasters, no special skills needed but men that could be trusted.

  They
decided they would moor the Cutter at Richborough which was an hours ride up the coast and they started to look for a new headquarters nearer to there. Deal was OK but with only a beach and no harbour it had limited benefits.

  What they needed was a building that could act as a shore base, training ground and store that was close to the harbour and had easy access to the road to Deal. They eventually found a farmhouse with ample outbuildings not far from the river and remote enough to ensure privacy. It was empty as the previous tenant had been evicted for non-payment of rent and they moved in immediately.

  Chapter 7 Smuggling and other services

  “What we need” said Armand “is a ship that the Sans-Culottes will think is one of theirs “

  “What, like the Fortune? French built and can be flagged either way?” Marty replied.

  “Exactement” Armand nodded

  “Why?” Marty asked

  “I ‘ave an idea ‘ow to disrupt the trade between America and France” he replied “They will not appreciate being robbed by French Privateers”

  “Why don’t we get the boys out of Deal to look for a likely candidate and then figure out how to acquire it” offered Marty “I’m going over there tonight as we are taking our first agent over so I can ask them. I can also have a look into Boulogne and see if there is anything interesting there.”

  “OK but nothing too big, Oui?” said Armand

  That evening Marty took one of the horses they kept for just this purpose and rode to Deal. He had only recently learnt how to ride and still didn’t feel completely at home in the saddle, but at least he didn’t get such a sore arse and thighs as he did when he started.

  When he got there he went to the Waggon and Horses. Bill Clarence and his brother Peter were sat at a table with a third man who he knew as Ash, one of the Skippers. He joined them at the table.

  “Evenin’ Marty” said Bill “yer package arrived at the Kings Arms this afternoon. A bookish looking fellow, nuttin’ to look at”

 

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