Book Read Free

Mischief Island

Page 6

by Robert Lance


  He cut trail to the opening and discovered the enlargement was bigger than he first thought. It was no problem to walk through with night vision but he hesitated because a flurry of creatures suddenly filled the air around him. Bats were coming at him, and he ducked low. When he did, he captured a beam of light moving away from him. Heather suddenly disappeared through the cavern opening. He followed and found himself on a short sloping path. He saw water below.

  Ted felt his way to waters edge. He could see the source of light. Heather was a silhouette behind a beam of light. She waded in water past her knees. Noise amplified in the cavern. Not only did he hear the bats, he heard her sloshing along. He knew where he was. She’d found a secret opening to the underground river. The question that remained was what was she doing there in the middle of the night? He stifled an urge to call out to her. He let her plod on before he entered the water to follow.

  Heather waded another hundred yards where there was a sandbar and an opening to a huge vault. It was a natural cathedral of crystal, with hundreds of spires of stalactites and stalagmites. The flashlight didn’t reach the extent of the opposing wall. The floor was a shimmering pool of bubbling water so clear Ted could see the solid sand base beneath the surface.

  He stopped short to watch Heather. She removed her backpack and was standing at water’s edge, carefully unzipping the cover. She removed swim fins and placed them to one side. Then she removed a medium sized rock. Ted knew it wasn’t a rock because he had seen and used the clever device many times. She unscrewed the rock like the lid on a jelly jar. It came apart in two pieces. The guts of the works were revealed, and she began to activate and program the smart rock.

  A red light flashed momentarily, then went out. A green light flashed and then stayed steady. She closed the cover. Heather hopped and danced as she put the swim fins on. She hefted the smart rock and tucked it under one arm, then grabbed the flashlight. Ted watched her stroke the water with her fins. She was sleek and fast in the water. The light of the flashlight bobbed up and down from her free hand in a direct line. The woman was one hundred feet into her swim, and still the far wall was not in sight. Swimming on another fifty feet, she stopped, treaded water, and shined her light left and right. She was at the marvelous entry to the underground river park. Her light landed on the left bank of the opening, and she swam toward the rock strewn base.

  Her light flowed over likely places to put the smart rock. Ted watched her from a distance with the hair on his arms raised.

  Smart rocks have many applications. They are typically put in a sleep mode to await activation by a transmitted signal or by the passing of a truck, bicycle, or a person. Once activated, it has many applications. It will transmit its GPS coordinates to alert monitors of traffic and go back to sleep until the next event, or it can exploded, or enter a wait mode to be detonated remotely. A smart rock can take a picture, record an audio, and scan until the monitor finds what the rock has discovered. Some smart rocks have tamper-proof devices that self destruct the rock’s contents and maybe the idiot who found it. It’s all good intel for our side, but there is always a down side to wizard technology. Smart rocks had no loyalty. They were pet rocks that could lay dormant forever, and it was the user at the other end that made them dangerous.

  Lieutenant Heather Cummins had gone to great pains to secretly spike the entrance to the Eighth Wonder of the World. Ted had no way of knowing whether the rock was armed. He watched as Heather glided across the grotto. He had time for a thousand thoughts to pass through his mind. He wasn’t taking any chances and slowly withdrew his hand-canon and aimed at the mysterious woman in his dreams.

  Ted waited for Heather to remove the swim fins and struggle with her hiking boots, before speaking from the dark cavern. “Lieutenant, move your hands where I can see them.”

  She reacted on reflex and her right hand moved to the holster on her web. Ted fired the canon. The grotto vibrated with the roar of the loud explosion. It seemed to echo forever. Heather curled into a defensive posture. “Don’t shoot!” she growled. Slowly she raised her hands. “Is that you, Ted?”

  “Remove your weapon and throw it on the sand behind you.”

  “You want to bring the ceiling down on us? For Christ sakes, Ted, you gave me heart failure. What are you doing here?”

  “I might ask you the same question.”

  She laughed. “You followed me, didn’t you?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why? I mean you didn’t have to sneak around. You’re pretty good at that, so why am I even asking?”

  “We both have the same habit. I was curious why you’re decked out like Mrs. Rambo, sneaking out under the cover of darkness, in the middle of a storm, leading me through a secret passage to catch you setting explosive at the gate of a national shrine.”

  She laughed again, but it was a forced laugh. “I’m not setting explosives.”

  “I could put a bullet through the smart rock, and you and I could cut our conversation short.”

  “Boy, are you ever on a short fuse.”

  “Where did the smart rock come from, and why is it in your possession and not mine?”

  “It came in the daily mail with instructions from Alamo. I’m supposed to put a GPS device and a blackout curtain over the entrance.” She saw the look on Ted’s face. She said, “I’m being flippant, and it gets complicated—

  “Uncomplicate it.”

  “Do you really want to hear about my honeymoon and how fixated Alamo was with this place? Do you really want to know why I know so much about bats? Bats feed not more than a few hundred yards from their roost, so I figured out they didn’t fly five miles just to pester the tourist. I found the second entry and the third. You want to know where the forth one is? We’re exactly one point two three miles from the resort. What else do you want to know?” Heather was out of breath and full of rage.

  “What is this place? I mean how does it fit into our mission?”

  “It’s Alamo’s private pirate cove. How should I know?”

  “The only thing you can possibly get in here is a zodiac. It’s too shallow for anything else.”

  “Maybe he’s got some kind of bat mobile? You gotta admit this is a pretty cool base ops. Can I put my hands down?”

  “Why are you carrying? Expecting trouble?”

  She tossed her thumb over her shoulder and spat her next words at him. “That’s not a weapon. Haven’t you ever seen a power piton hammer? It uses cartridges to drive home self-tapping pitons into stone.”

  “Why do you need one?”

  “How else are you going to hang the fucking blackout curtains? You can stay around and watch if you want.”

  “Are you telling me you’re going to scale the grotto dome and nail pitons across the roof?”

  “Somebody’s gotta do it.”

  Ted looked at the Piton hammer and nodded for her to put her hands down. “Jesus, Lieutenant let us help you—.”

  “Alamo insists everything has to be compartmentalized. You can’t eat in the restaurant, and we can’t bring picnics to the grotto.” She finished lacing her boot and said. “He’s got a point. If your group and my group found out, there would be an ant trail from here to the resort.”

  “We met your group, and you’re AWOL.”

  I’m not hiding from them; it’s just that I’m preoccupied with getting something off my chest that didn’t work out.”

  “About that…Heather—

  “Ted, you’re right. In a couple of months I’ll be banging your door down. Count on it.”

  “In a couple of months, you may not like me.”

  “Then stop shooting at me. I’ve got a headache from that.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ted allowed a pause to see if she would respond. She didn’t, so he said, “How did you land this job?”

  “I know the territory, and Alamo knows I know how to use a piton power hammer. Other than that, it’s punishment.”

  “You want some help?”

&nbs
p; “Love some. Are you afraid of heights?”

  “Who do you think handed Michelangelo his brushes when he painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel?”

  She laughed. “You’ve got a good quick sense of wit. Grab some pitons and let’s figure out the best way to do this.”

  They studied the opening and determined it was thirty feet and a little more wide, and thirty feet high. Putting anchors thirty feet up the legs was going to be the high wire act. It would take both of them on the wall face and they’d have to hammer one piton at a time. The good part was they’d need to hammer half as many anchors because she could stand on his shoulders. From the ground they mapped exactly where each piton would be positioned so they wouldn’t find themselves trying to figure it out on the fly. Both were methodical in their approach. They prepared inventive rope chairs to attach to the pitons as they climbed.

  “How were you going to do this by yourself in the dark?”

  “I was going to tie off the flashlight, and work my way up, two feet at a time.”

  “Maybe we should wait for daylight to do this.”

  “It’s almost dark ten feet inside the grotto in daylight. The reason we’re working at night is there’s no one within three miles of here and no one will hear the hammer.

  The first piton was slammed in fairly quickly as Heather had climbed up on Ted’s back to get the job done. Then the pair were suspended on one anchor. Heather did her high-wire exhibition and climbed up Ted’s frame. She mounted him, her legs straddling his neck. When she had tied off the tools in the nap sack and she felt ready, he’d push away from the wall and she’d rise up and hammer the next piton. Bang. Bang. Bang. It was like watching scorpions mate. There was a flurry of action followed by slow seductive crawl to the next level. Then they repeated the same fete until they were at the top of the dome.

  The planning took longer than the actual job. They finished the first leg just short of a half hour. But something happened in that half hour. They came down the ropes together holding each other when there was no need. Heather pulled away. “I’m drench in sweat and I’ve gotta take a dip in the pool.” She turned off her flashlight and began to disrobe. “I won’t be but a few minutes and we can finish up the other leg and call it a night.”

  Ted was quiet, but his breathing was heavy.

  “Ted, are you alright?”

  “No. We were supposed to put this task off for two month.”

  “What are you saying, Ted?”

  “Do you have any idea how hard that was to do with a screaming erection?”

  Heather giggled. “Stop making me laugh.”

  “I know you didn’t plan this, but I can’t wait another minute. Come get me Heather.”

  He flashed his light on her face. Her eyes were closed as if her prayers had been answered. She said nothing as light showered the rest of her body.

  Ted dropped the flashlight. She began to walk in his direction and he began to remove his shirt. He felt her hands slide the length of his chest and heard her soft voice. “Let me help you.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ted slogged his way to the pool deck and collapsed in a lawn chair. Ramon was busy transitioning his buffet from breakfast to lunch. He spied Ted and quickly made a pastry plate for his guest. With his big hat flopping in a strong breeze, Ramon cheerfully delivered a much needed delicacy and strong coffee to his guest. He said, “The birds are singing happy today. That is a good sign. I see happy birds singing within you too.”

  “Thanks, Ramon. What’s going on?”

  “More Americans came in the night. Ramon is only too happy, and I will make a great American feast in one hour’s time. Be hungry until then.”

  Ted had his spent passions to deal with. He felt a vicarious presence of Heather shoring up his spirits. He could replay the images of spider woman’s ballet on the grotto ceiling until he was dead. Even Spiderman had his limits of endurance, and he needed rest, but the world beyond the grotto demanded his full attention.

  His mates were kicking around a soccer ball out on the grounds. Domino had a commanding control of the ball and fiercely held her own against his three thugs. Carole was sitting it out on the sidelines, heckling the men. He’d let them play a little longer while he filled his next cup of coffee. Things in the compound were about to change, if they already hadn’t.

  Perry caught sight of Ted and that put an end to the game. The team hustled off the lawn and huddled up around Ted’s table. All of them tried to speak at once, and all of them were concentrated on the subject of Ted’s night foray.

  “Did you run into Mata Hari? We so know you did.”

  “Welcome back Lothario.”

  “Check out the rug burn on his chin. Damn, Perrotte, that’s gonna burn for awhile.”

  “Confess, and all will be forgiven. Details. Details. Come on Perrotte, we just know you did the deed.”

  “Look at the fucker. She gave him back tens years of life.”

  Ted put up his hands to silence them. “Sorry, there’s no after action report because there is nothing to report.”

  Skepticism filled the air. Ted said, “Lieutenant Cummins and I have made a decision. We’re not going to wait around for Alamo. She and I spent our night cuttin’ trail—.”

  Someone blurted out, “I’ll bet you did.”

  The remark got a sharp head snap and growl from Ted. “Get your fucking work boots on because that’s exactly what you’re going to be doing for the rest of the day.”

  “Hold up there, Perrotte. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Gates. “You missed out. A lot of shit has happened in your absence.”

  “What happened?”

  Gates said, “Couple of things.” The men pulled up lawn chairs without saying anything.

  Fitzgerald started. “Manila is on fire. Protesters are rattling the gates of our embassy. Roberto is glued to CNN, and we watched it happening.”

  “Why?”

  Fitzgerald continued. “To cut it short, the president gave the Chinese Ambassador a dirty handshake and a stern warning before sending him back to Peking. He spit in the eye of the Philippine people.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Fitzgerald said, “He’s demanding an apology and reparations. He unilaterally pulled away from making new trade deals unless China removes its military ships from the Spratly Islands. That’s America’s response to the sinking of the Philippine cruiser.”

  Gates added, “That plays right into the hands of the Chinese. They like the status quo and could give a shit about new trade deals. That guy made America an international laughing stock. It’s all the pundits and detractors are talking about.”

  Perry said, “There’s a rumor he pissed on his fingers before shaking the Chinese Ambassador’s hand. That counts for something.”

  Fitzgerald said, “That makes him a bigger buffoon on the world stage than he already is.”

  Gates said, “The government here expelled the Chinese and we could be next. Maybe that’s what has delayed Alamo. Did Mata Hari have any fresh intel?”

  “Not on Alamo’s whereabouts, but she gave me a pretty good idea what’s coming down the pike.”

  “Fitzgerald said, “That’s the other news. A bus load of swabbie geeks came down the pike right after you left. They look like members of a garage band and they brought a lot of electronic gizmos with them. Maybe we can have karaoke night.”

  Gates said. “They’ve got a Master Chief running the show. He’s one of those Master Chiefs, no first name, last name Gregory types. Reminds me of Don Rickles, all grit and growl.”

  Perry asked. “What do we do now? That shit in Manila sorta kinks the hose.”

  Gates said, “Odds on we’ll be around for the pig roast tonight, but we won’t be around to eat the tail and snout soup on Friday. Let’s just enjoy the R & R for what it is.”

  Perrotte sensed a lethargy and boredom settling over the morale of his mates. He needed to take charge. “Let’s show a little initiative and
help Mata Hari out. You’ll be surprised what needs to get done. Let’s not disappoint Alamo.”

  Fitzgerald said, “What’s first on the agenda?”

  Ted smiled and said, “We’re going to hang curtains.”

  The daily mailed arrived at the abandoned fish processing plant by courier van. The ice house had a heavy door and lock, the only lock between Sabang and Puerto Princesa. It would be ideal for storing munitions. There was a shed, made of native timber with a palm frond roof that was a good storage area. Four very large boxes were stacked against a sheet metal wall.

  Ted saw a potential problem. If they intended to transport bulk items down the trail to the grotto, they’d need wheels. All that was available in Sabang was two wheeled fish carts hauled by a tricked-out motor bike. The only commercial vehicle in all of Sabang was a garish red and yellow jeepney minivan that tourists would rent more for a lark than convenience. Ted looked it over and had to smirk. The van had cutaway sides like a Disney World parking lot tram. A yellow serpent snaked its way from the rear bumper along the roofline down the front fender with mint green eyes around the headlights. The serpent had claws, scales, big fangs and a scarlet forked tongue. The hood sported what looked like a chicken trapped by the serpent.

  The bed was split and rigged for seats facing outward to the street, five on each side. The Jeepney had snow tires and four wheel drive. It was narrow enough to negotiate the main walking trail but they’d have to expand the side trail leading to the grotto.

  The Jeepney operator was only too happy to negotiate a long-term rental. He balked at the idea of removing the seats, but Ted made it worthwhile. The team was proud to have a battle ready fighting clown car to carry them into war.

  They loaded the van with two of the big boxes, and Perry had scrounged machetes to cut trail. They set off for the grotto, and after two hours of hacking out a quarter mile passable lane, they arrived to the secret passage to the underground river. The boxes barely fit through the opening. It took all of them to float the boxes to the sand bar in the grotto.

 

‹ Prev